


Masked

by syngrafeas



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Action, Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Pining, Spideypool - Freeform, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 13:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 42,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7894594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syngrafeas/pseuds/syngrafeas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were who they were; they were just too blind to see it.</p><p>/Wait, I thought Momma Al was the only character whose blind?/</p><p>(Wade, it's... nevermind.)</p><p>/Oh, oh! It's like a metaphor, right?!/</p><p>(Shh, just shut up.)</p><p>or</p><p>a confusing Spideypool au no one asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spiderman appeared on the semi trailer, “What are you doing here? And who even are you?”
> 
> “You don’t know who I am?!” Deadpool gasped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on wattpad: dxmnlarriet  
> Follow me on instagram: dxmnlarry
> 
>  
> 
> Hope you guys like iiiit

 

** **

**Chapter One: That Super Emo Flashback**

Wade Wilson once had a partner; the kind of partner you just want to settle down with and just kiss them even with this bad morning breath like it’s the same place farts come from. That guy was that kind of partner. Yes, his dream, his love bug, his baby boy, his cutie pie, his boo, his sweetums, his pumpkin, his nerdy, intelligent geek, his science-loving freak, his four-eyed bear, his, well, everything.

[You’re a 200-pound killer, what the hell, Wade]

Wade ignored his thoughts, rolling his eyes as he splashed water to his face to cool him up before wiping it down with the towel. He spent breakfast alone, in his suit with his weapons already strapped to him as he sat quietly and ate a bowl of Lucky Charms. He tossed the bowl to the sink, not even flinching as it clattered loudly.

“That’s ceramic, dickhead.” Al cursed from her chair, staring ahead.

“Yeah, bye momma Al.” Wade patted her head softly before pecking her cheek quick before practically skipping out the door. He’s got a job to do today, which means more cash to buy shit with.

[Cha ching!]

(Make it rain)

The streets of New York were buzzing, as usual. Wade’s not even baffled by the thought that crime was frequent in this city. Deadpool posed by the street, hands on his hips as he pursed his lips under his mask. He glanced down at his watch, Hello Kitty’s hand indicating that yeah, he was that late.

He hailed a cab and it stopped meters away from him. Groaning, he stomped over like a child—

[Nothing new there]

\-- and as he was about to reach for the door handle, another hand reached for it. Wade raised his nonexistent eyebrow and glared down at the kid, who didn’t look like he could be more than 20, “Step back, ugly.” Before he climbed into the car as he watched as the kid stumbled back, eyes wide.

“Mr. Cab driver, just drop me by George Washington bridge.”

“B-But it is not legal to drop passengers on—“

“Did I fucking stutter, Mr. cab driver?”

“No, no.” The man shook his head frantically.

[Ha, pussy]

(Sometimes I can’t believe this piece of white fabric over our eyes are taunting anyone we stare at.)

[It’s our natural flare, not the goddamn cloth]

As he settled, he recognized the tune, ‘Don’t say what you’re about to say, Look back before you leeeeave my liiife.’ Deadpool huffed, looking out the window and tapping his forehead there a few times. Oh, the memories.

[Mammaries, rather]

(We can’t let you have an ultimately cheesy flashback right now)  
[I dare you]

(No)

_Three Years Ago_

“Yeah, thanks, dick-tit!” Wade cursed at the cab driver (he really has issues with cab drivers) sarcastically as the driver threw his luggage out into the rainy street. It was drizzling in New York. Wade’s never been to New York. At all. He threw his middle finger in the air as the driver drove away, leaving him on the sidewalk where people were starting to stare at him.

Wade pulled his head back and started to groan to himself before he bent down to carry his luggage. He was lost, and he was supposed to stay in a hotel. Supposed. Until the shit driver doubted his instructions and gave up on him.

Grumbling to himself, he carried his things to the nearby coffee shop for shade. Under that said shade, he stood there with his arms crossed and eyebrows tight. Everything seemed unfamiliar to him. He murmured to himself until someone popped out of the coffee shop entrance. There was this kid, mid-twenties Wade assumed, who approached him, “Can I help you?”

Wade glanced at him, and then he was stopping. Alright, this guy was an ace. Feathery, thick hair, thick eyebrows, pale skin, brown eyes, pointed nose, pink lips. “No I..” Wade stammered, “I was finding my apartment complex, in Upper Broadway.”

“Oh. There’s only one complex in Upper Broadway.” The kid nodded, “It’s a few streets from here.” He then turns to point at a particular area, “Second street to the left, first to the right, straight ahead and then the first left again and you should see a complex from there. It’s got a sign and all so you can’t miss it.”

Wade could only process one thing at a time. He nodded slowly, “So much for few streets.” He then looked back at the guy, “Yeah, thanks uh…”

“Peter Parker.” Peter offered his hand. He smelled like coffee.

“Parker.” Wade repeated, “Thanks.” He then looked ahead to the street, puffing his cheeks as he breathed out a sigh.

Peter noticed it, “Are you sure you got that all?”

“I really don’t think so.” Wade pressed his lips into a thin line, “You talk too fast.”

“I can uh... go there with you? I was about to go home anyway.” Peter shrugged, lifting his hand to show Wade his purchase of one frappe and a croissant.

“You live there?” Wade asked.

“Yeah.” They began walking, both their hoodies up and covering their heads. A few seconds of silence was broken by Peter, “You never told me your name, mister...?”

“Ugh, not that please.” Wade rolled his eyes, “Makes me feel like an old man.”

“Well, you kind of are.” Ignoring Wade’s arched eyebrow, Peter snorted, “You still haven’t told me your name.”

“Woah, slow down, four eyes.” Wade chuckled to which the kid rolled his eyes, “Original.”

“Name’s Wade.”

“Judging from your luggage, and well, the fact that you don’t know the most popular apartment complex in this area, I assume you’re from another place.” Peter shrugged. He was looking at Wade with this big-eyed stare.

“Canada.” Wade answered, “Don’t I look Canadian to you?”

“Must be your beard.” Peter said which no, did not make any sense whatsoever.

“Kid, you’re weird.”

Peter shot out, “I’m helping you out, aren’t I?”

“Thanks for that.” Wade muttered but it went unnoticed by the boy. Peter led Wade to the complex, leaving him to the doorman without any other word.

“Hey uh...” Wade called out, pausing when Peter looked back, “Thanks again, for the help.”

Peter saluted at him before continuing his way to the stairs, completely ignoring the elevators.

Days passed when they meet again. Wade’s first few days had been rough in New York. He was only tasked to do this one job, which would take lot longer than usual, but higher the pay. He didn’t know anyone in the damn city except for his doorman, and well, Peter Parker. Speaking of the kid, he hadn’t seen him since their last meet. Not like he was wanting to or anything, but seeing the kid would somehow make him like this city. He needed to buy groceries, though.

Groceries weren’t bad, Wade just didn’t like pushing a cart through the people crowded aisles and having to walk back and forth for one thing that he wanted to buy. At the junkfood aisle, Wade didn’t even shy in taking every type of chips there were. Although, he needed to find a Mexican food around this place.

Wade was about to exit the aisle when another wheeled in. No other than by Peter Parker. Wade paused himself before stepping back to call out, “Peter!”

Peter lifted his head to see who called him. He saw Wade at the end of the aisle. The man was.. Peter really didn’t know. His first impression on Wade was quit e neutral. Not bad, and not good either. Just leaning on the enough part. Peter smiled at him slightly as a greet back.

Wade decided to jog over to him, “Hey, Peter.”

“Hi.”

“Do you know where the nearest Mexican place is? Jeez, I’m craving for some chimichangas right now.” Wade sighed, “So?”

“Should I tell you or walk you there?” Peter smiled knowingly.

So from there, their friendship (woah) escalated. One would ask the other for a cup of coffee or some tacos, one would ask the other to come over to their apartment just to hang out, one would ask about the other’s personal lives. They were slow and gradual, but they progressed. Soon, Wade was adoring Peter than expected and they were blindly smitten towards each other. Wade had doubts, of course. He thought about things with Peter. If Peter liked him the way that they did. Turned out, he did. He really did.

“Crash Bandicoot.” Peter said, raising an eyebrow, “I doubt a guy like you would like a game like this.”

“It’s a classic!” Wade defended, “It’s the old version of Netflix and Chill, or whatever kids call it these days.”

“Are you implying something?” Peter teased, beginning to play.

“I’ll wait ‘til you’re not jailbait.”

“Creep.”

After Wade had finished his job, originally the one he came to New York for, he was supposed to go back to Canada to resume his boring, lonely life. He didn’t want to go back, so he kept staying in New York. Besides, he didn’t want to leave Peter behind.

“It’s weird for you to have chimichangas as leftovers, Wade.” Peter hummed as he raked through Wade’s fridge. Wade watched him from the counter, legs swinging side to side.

“Just had no appetite.” Wade muttered.

Peter straightened up, raising an eyebrow as he shoved the said chimichangas in the microwave, “Wade Wilson’s quiet. Penny for your thoughts?”

Wade snorted, “They cost more than that, baby boy.” Ah, that nick name.

“You don’t need pennies for how much money you have.” Peter laughed before turning serious, “What is it, really?”

Wade jumped from the counter and just plainly stood there. Peter pressed his lips in a tight line, “It’s weird seeing you not talking. I practically have to sew your mouth shut for you to stop talking. There’s something wrong. I can sense it with this Wade-dar. Aha, get it? Wade-dar? Because like—“

Between his long rambling, Wade have crossed the kitchen to step closer to Peter, closing the gap between their lips as Wade leaned down to kiss him. Peter gasped, eyes blinking, but like as said earlier, they were gradual.

Gradual, as in it took Peter a year before they moved in together in Wade’s much larger apartment. Gradual, as in Wade waited for another few months until Peter kissed him heavily with his hips rutting for friction against Wade’s. Gradual. Wade was happy with Peter. Peter was happy with Wade. They were both in a daydream that didn’t seem quire real, but then.

“Oh, fuck, Wade.” Peter hissed as he nipped at Wade’s earlobe, arms wrapped tightly around Wade’s neck. He was being moved up and down the bed from the strong thrusts Wade was giving.

“Yeah, Pete.” Wade groaned. Soon, Peter began to move against Wade’s thrusts, moaning loudly when he slammed down just right.

Their orgasms were hard, with them gasping each other’s name to their mouths. After recovering, Wade gave Peter a chaste peck on the lips before winking, rolling off of him to walk to the bathroom to grab some wet towel. Peter sat up in bed, watching Wade’s ass as he walked away.  
Not long after, there was a loud thud coming from the bathroom. Peter frowned, wondering why Wade wasn’t even yelping or whining like a child. Peter ran out of bed and dash to the bathroom. Wade laid on his side, unconscious.

“Oh, God.” Peter chanted, beginning to start a panic attack, “Wade!” He kneeled down beside Wade and shook the man, “Wade?! Baby—“ He sucked in a deep breath, willing himself to calm.

Wade was taken to the hospital. After waking up, he was immediately swarmed by Peter, “Oh my God. I’m so scared—“ Peter sniffled, “D-Don’t do that to me every again! Or I’ll...-I’ll..—“

Wade stared fondly at him, “You are as harmless as a fly, baby boy.”

Peter pouted. Wade leaned in to kiss those lips but was stopped when the doctor chose to enter. Peter pulled back and Wade sat up, struggling quite a bit until he settled, “Hey, doc. So is my age finally getting to me?”  
The doctor offered him a half-assed smile, “That would’ve been a better case, Mr. Wilson. Unfortunately, it isn’t.”

“So... what is it?”

“You have terminal cancer, Mr. Wilson. And it has spread through some of the most vital parts in your body.”

Peter blinked at the doctor before he diverted his eyes to Wade, “Wade...” His eyes held so much emotion and he was trembling like he was the one who got told.

Wade had a distressed look on his face. He looked down to where he and Peter’s hand were laced together, and then he looked at Peter. Cancer was a killer, like Wade was ironically. Cancer didn’t only affect its victim, but the people who love them and he couldn’t... leave Peter behind.

Wade passed by his job place slash bar slash viking-hangout after that devastating news. His new earned friend, Weasel, worked there. Upon entering, Wade immediately sat on the bar, resting his elbows on the counter as he covered his face with his hands.

“Hey.” Weasel greeted, “The last time you were here, Peter and you had a fight and you came to me, asking for help as if I was the love guru. I swear, people just come to me when they need me.”

“Yeah, something like that.” Wade shrugged.

“Oh yeah.” Weasel reached into his pants and slid a black card to Wade, “Someone’s looking for you.” He nodded to the side and Wade followed it. There was a man seated on a corner table in a slick tux. Wade looked at Weasel one more time before approaching the man, sitting across from him.

“Mr. Wilson.” The man grinned at him. Hs was obviously Asian, “I am Agent Smith.”

Wade crossed his arms, “Just so you know, I’m barely accepting right now because my boyfriend—“

“You are diagnosed with terminal cancer, yes?” Smith cut him off.  
Without confirmation, he continued, “What if I told you, I could make you better?”

“Sounds like something from a commercial.” Wade deadpanned, “Or an intro from a superhero movie.”

“Maybe it is, Mr. Wilson.” Smith taunted, “We can give you abilities that make men want to be you. My offer stands until you accept it. “ With that, the man stood and left, walking away with the viking-like men staring at his back.

Back at home, Peter was refusing him to leave. He was so much more stressed than Wade was. Wade was already losing hope. He couldn’t live. Peter was always spending his extra time researching and their room was a mess of papers and medical books about cancer. Sometimes Wade would just lay in their bed watching him study with those black glasses that made him look cuter than necessary.

“I think you should just rest, Wade. The doctor literally just told you days ago that you’ve been diagnosed with cancer, alright? Rest.”

“Resting won’t do me shit, Peter.” Wade walked across the room to fetch his jacket, “I mean, the cancer’s all over me like you are. I mean I hope you are. Because that would be a complete bummer—“

Peter tugged at his hair, pacing before he stopped in front of Wade, “I love you, Wade.”

Wade softened at the words, “Yeah, I know, baby boy.” He tugged Peter into his arms as the boy sobbed and God, Wade was still alive. Imagine if Wade was dead, then Peter would cry until the water in his body left him and then some. Where was Wade to comfort him? Nowhere.

They were cuddling in their bed, Wade spooning Peter in his arms and holding him tightly. Wade hadn’t slept for hours. He hadn’t slept even for a wink. Sighing, he put a deep kiss into Peter’s temple before wiggling out of his grip. Fuck, Peter didn’t really want him to let go, huh.

After grabbing his jacket and his stuff, he slipped on his shoes before he left without a single glance back at Peter, who had been pretending to be asleep the whole time.

//

“My name is Francis.” The scientist loomed over him, “And I basically manage this whole facility.”

“This place seems promising.” Wade tried to glance down where a leather belt was wrapped around his neck, and four more around his wrists and ankles.

“You will thank me after I am done with you.”

Francis then explained what would be Wade’s state after the treatment. Wade was starting to fear for himself, but he got into this mess so he’d just suck it all up. Wade learned that it wasn’t a government facility, hence the supernatural people loitered around when he was wheeled in a cot. Wade was injected with a serum that could change his DNA or shit like that. He wasn’t really paying much attention. Every day, Wade was tortured. Every day, it was a new and harder challenge for him to stay alive and keep his heart beating. He wondered if he could still see Peter after all this. For his last torture, before he couldn’t take any more of Francis’ experiments on, the oxygen was stolen from him, suffocating him in this suffocating glass chamber while he was still strapped tightly to the cot. His whole body trembled, mouth gaping like a fish who got out of water. His eyes practically rolled to the back of his head.

//

He had sores all over him. In every inch of his skin, there were either angry, raised, or red. He lost every hair he had in his body (yes, down south as well) and he was horrifying. He woke up buried into the ground after he purposely blew up Francis’ fucked up facility. He remembered being stabbed in the abdomen by a rebar, and he searched for any hole or whatsoever but he didn’t find any. Did Francis’ experiment work? He survived the whole explosion after all.

It was difficult living after that, to say the least. Wade found blind Al who accepted him willingly and so far, she was all Wade had. Her blindness helped him somehow,. She didn’t judge him by the looks, and they both didn’t need a mirror to look at. He had his home. Wade tried returning to Peter, he really did. He tried so hard to push himself.

He saw Peter in the same coffee shop they met at, sitting outside with his laptop and a few papers like the nerdy geek Wade loved. Wade was on the end of the street, and he hid himself under his hoodie, taking deep breaths. He started walking to Peter. Maybe, just maybe, even under all the sores and scars, Peter would recognize his eyes.

Wade slipped his hands into his pockets, keeping his head straight and seemingly confident. His gaze was only trained on Peter’s. Until, he saw a woman pass by him. She noticed his face, and her face fell, stumbling back as Wade just ignored him, shoulders crumpling. Another couple with a kid passed by and the kid hid her face into her father’s neck as they saw Wade’s face.

Wade stopped in his tracks, emotions threatening to fall. No, this wasn’t about him. It was about Peter. He forced himself to keep walking forward. He passed by the coffee shop entrance. At the same time, an employee walked out, holding a cup of coffee. Wade abruptly stopped in front of Peter and the employee, accidentally spilled the coffee on his back and all over his hands. The employee helped, “Ow!”

Wade turned around to apologize, but the employee gasped out, “Get out of here, you freak!”

“Hey, hey.” Wade internally panicked as he heard Peter’s voice and the chair slightly screeching against the concrete, “There’s no need for that—“

Wade turned around and accidentally bumped Peter in the shoulder. Keeping his head down, he stared at his worn out shoes as he kept walking forward. Peter stood there, dumbfounded as he watched the retreating figure. He blinked.

It was so often Wade saw Peter and it made him want to shoot himself in the head, although that won’t kill him. After the incident, Wade never dared to step a mile away from Peter. He kept himself in the shadows, just silently protecting Peter.

Wow, was he miserable. He made his own suit, spandex, of course. What kind of superhero doesn’t wear spandex? Momma Al suggested red, because boy, Wade bleeds too much.

That was his everyday life. He looks after Peter like a stalking maniac, and he started out with his mercenary job once again. Wade’s life wasn’t perfect, but who the hell was?

_Present_

“Mr. Deadpool?” The driver fearfully reached a finger to poke Wade in the shoulder. He fell asleep inside the cab, cheek mushed against the window.

Before the man could touch him, Deadpool sprung up, nearly hitting his head on the roof, “Woo!” He yelled, making the driver jump, “Good morning, Canada! Just kidding, I won’t come back to that hell hole. If I stayed this city won’t have a super-antihero like meeee!—“

“You are in George Washington bridge, Mr. Pool.”

“Oh! Thank you, Mr. cab driver.” Deadpool reached up to pat the driver in the head before he climbed out of the car. The driver stuttered awfully as he tried to ask Deadpool for the payment, but he drove away instead.  
There, Deadpool sat. The warehouse was underneath the bridge, abandoned and all rusty.

[Abandoned warehouses. How original.]

(It’s like a fetish for villains and criminal minds.)

[Starter pack, probably.]

He waited until he could see those little heads moving on that overgrown area around the warehouse. He poised himself to jump down, ready to kill until a certain masked superhero swung across the bridge, nearly earning Deadpool a foot in the back of his head.

“Watch it, eight legs!” Deadpool called out.

Spiderman glanced at him but didn’t spare him another second before he was landing on the roof, alarming the men patrolling. Deadpool rolled his eyes before he jumped down, but the force and gravity caused his landing to be a little bit rough. He fell through the roof, effectively punching a hole through it. He landed on crates down below.

“Oh, sweet mother of Pearl. Mr. Krabs gotta take care of ya.” Deadpool groaned as he twisted his wrist, which was broken from the way it hurt and wobbled. Spiderman, fucking Spiderman. As Deadpool stumbled to his feet, angrily kicking the crates out of the way, all guns pointed towards him, “Woah there, Backstreet Boys.” He noticed the denim jackets, “I come in peace.”

He remembered every detail of his victim’s face. Blonde hair, dark-skinned, beard, a triangle on his neck. He wasn’t in this group of puppets. He just stood there, his boxes creating critter noises as he tried to think of a B plan. He swore he had the best plan planned.

“Oh, Spideeey!” Wade called out obnoxiously, looking at his covered nails as he whistled, “Because of you, I’m cornered so you better rescue your damsel in distress!”

There were footsteps heard from the roof, the crackling from the weight. Some of the men followed the sound, and Deadpool took the chance to jump away from their aim and to another pile of filled crates which he hadn’t landed on.

He reached his thigh holsters to grab two pistols, reloading it with ammo. He peeked just the slightest and rounds of bullets were fired. He braced himself, “Showtime, baby.”

He sprung from the wall, shooting men in just one perfect shot in the head before he ducked down to cover. He raised his head and aimed for the man nearest him and another one. “Easy A, bitches.”. He moved to another cover. Apparently, some dickhead got lucky and managed a bullet through his shoulder, “Ow, shit.” Deadpool stretched his bleeding shoulder, “Motherfucker, now you’re gonna pay.”

He threw his guns back into place—

[Ooh, organized, I like it.]

\---before he leaped from his cover. He brought out a much smaller knife strapped to his ankle before he threw it like throwing a dartpin. Except his target was human and very much alive. The man dropped to the ground as the blade dug deep into his glabella. Deadpool landed on one foot too hard, and he cried out and dropped to the ground, clutching his ankle.

(...)

[Get up.]

“Now, that’s what you call a super action movie. Dig that!”

[I don’t know why this lady writer is patronizing this god-awful fanfic.]

(Yeah, we’ve totally starred in better. Are people even gonna read this?)

[Probably unwillingly.]

Who’s next?” He lifted his head and was surprised to see the rest of the men webbed... to the ceiling? “Huh.” Deadpool stood up and admired the wiggling lizards, “Spidey-babe, is this your masterpiece?”

“Matter of fact, it is.” Spiderman appeared on the semi trailer, “What are you doing here? And who even are you?”

“You don’t know who I am?!” Deadpool gasped, and then he put his hands on his hips and puffed his chest out, “I, am Deadpool. You can call me Mr. Pool not Captain Deadpool but you can definitely call me tonight.” He ended with a wink. He watched Spiderman cross his arms and continued to stare at him. Deadpool copied him then added, “I am here because I’m...”

[Hired to do mercenary work that I once quit but took back.]

(Un-aliving people for money)

[Dead targets = satisfied customers = wad of cash, baby.)

(That’s basically our life, right.)

“You didn’t have to kill these people.” Spiderman told him after the unnecessarily long pause “They belong in jail, not in the arms of death.”  
“Kinda do. I think they’d like to meet Death. Have you met her? Nice big—“ Deadpool absentmindedly squeezed air into his hands and Spiderman scowled at him.

[Getting sidetracked!]

Deadpool snapped out of his daydream and stepped closer, “I’m looking for a man. Their boss, particularly. Fizzy blonde long gay hair, terrible terrible goatee and he’s an illuminati.”

Spiderman stared at him. Deadpool raised his hands, “Alright I’ll go look for him myself.” He started whistling as he sauntered around the area. He scanned the faces of the webbed men, still struggling from the icky white mess they’re in. As Deadpool walked around, a shotgun was heard and both Spiderman and him ran for cover. Deadpool peeked from his cover to call at Spiderman, “Spidey, you alive?”

Spiderman didn’t answer, but Wade saw him behind the semitrailer he was on earlier. Wade watched in awe as the hero moved around stealthily to get a better angle at the man, who was turning around in very second in fear of being killed. Spiderman shot his web, yanking away the man’s gun from him. He was about to web him up like a mummy in Egypt when Deadpool came running from his cover. He used a large block of (convenient) wood as a leverage before he unsheathed one of his katanas.

“Deadpool, no!” Spiderman demanded. He planned on webbing the idiot, but before he could get a chance to, the man’s head was decapitated.  
Police sirens were heard from outside. Both Deadpool and Spiderman looked alarmingly at each other. “Uh..” Deadpool looked at the hero, “Save me...?”

“You’re on your own, pal.” Spiderman dismissed him before webbing out of the place. Deadpool’s groan echoed.

 

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is he anything like Parker?”
> 
> “Nah..” Wade shook his head, “Peter tends to get really shy like a hedgehog and Spiderman’s... different in a way. I mean, their voices sound alike but then again, I haven’t heard Peter’s voice in ages.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've received positive comments on the first chapter and I wanna thank yall for the support.

**Chapter Two: Blind Chicks**

“Shit prick on a stick.” Deadpool grunted as he pulled himself up. He was on top of a skyscraper, he couldn’t and didn’t want to remember how he got there, and Spiderman’s perched on the edge of it, crouched down as usual, “Spidey-babe!”

Spiderman was already looking at him, “Oh, you’re still alive.”

Deadpool crawled over, sitting a few feet away from the edge, “I am wounded that you don’t know what I’m famous for. I can’t believe you don’t know about my kickass healing factor! That is just offensive, you little arachnid. Especially after you left me in that warehouse!”

“I got myself in there so I’m not leaving with a big-mouthed baby.” Spiderman shrugged, “And yes, I guess you’re famous enough for me to know that you can’t actually die.”

“Big-mouthed baby.” Wade muttered, “Does that mean I’m your baby?"

Spiderman ignored him, leaning his chin on his palm, “I wonder what you’d look like if I push you off this building.”

Deadpool crawled over the edge, peeking before he was shuddering, pushing himself back. He composed himself, “Like Hollow Man who got ran over by a truck, fourteen times.”

“And like... your squished organs will just be magnetized by your brain or something?”

“I’ll be too uh.. unconscious enough.” Deadpool answered. When he gets injured, it hurt like a motherfucker, like pouring vinegar all your a deep wound and probably much more. Sometimes, his healing process really liked to fucked with him, making all the sores in his body act up. “You still owe me for leaving me in that warehouse.”

“You made it out alive, didn’t you?”

“I will make it out alive from anything so there is no point in your defense, Spidey.”

“Stop calling me that.” Spiderman said, “You killed most of the men in there.”

Deadpool shrugged, scratching at his chin, “They asked for it. I mean, they were all pointing their guns at me.” He looked at over at Spiderman, who was not convinced, “I uh... freaked out?” He scowled, then, crossing his arms, “How about you? What were you doing there as well?”

“Their boss, that blonde man whose head I saw rolling away from his the rest of his body, “ Spiderman looked at him knowingly with a slight glare, “.. was a drug dealer, shipments of drugs and even some weapons are stored in that warehouse.”

“Ah, I see.” Deadpool nodded slowly, “Now I get why they call you a vigilante. Like, was it your dream to be a police officer? Because to be honest, you are better than that. Of course, with the superhero powers. I bet you’re lame and lanky and awkward without your spider blood—“

“Thanks a lot for that.” Spiderman sarcastically muttered, “Now I know why you got the nickname merc with a mouth.”

“I can do pretty obscene things with this mouth, baby.” Deadpool wiggled his eyebrows.

Spiderman scoffed, “Not me, Pool party.”

Deadpool laughed obnoxiously at the name, “Pool party? That the best you can get, eight legs? Arachnid? Web-slinger? Web head? Spideykins?”

“Alright, alright.” Deadpool could practically see the rolling of Spiderman’s eyes, “You got me on eight legs, which by the way, clearly, is not true.”

Deadpool snorted loudly but then turned serious, “How’d you get mutated, anyway? I always imagined it was through a serum or a bite from a spider but I didn’t know spiders can even do such a thing. If they can turn humans into spiders, does that mean humans can turn spiders into humans?”

[You disappoint me.]

(I thought we were better than this.)

“Radioactive spider.” Spiderman answered. He saw Deadpool about to open his mouth to babble more senselessly and he cut him off, “All in good time, mate.” He wasn’t about to tell Deadpool, his supposed to be archenemy, all about his personal life.

Peter had gone to Oscorp. He was so itching to study more about Wade’s cancer, so desperate and he sought new ways on how to help Wade. Peter’s curiosity almost killed him. It was either by the guards or by himself. He had snuck in a highly-confidential room. He was being a total rebel.

Inside were like cages of spiders. Peter then realized he walked into the wrong room, but he stepped closer to examine them. More staring happened and the spiders started to freak out. Peter could feel the webs and he started to freak out as well. He marched out of the room with fast paced steps, only stopping when he was back into the main hall. He sighed heavily, but then he felt a sting at the back of his neck. He winced, itching the pain through his coat collar.

Hours later, he started to feel the side effects like his very clear vision, fast reflexes and sticky hands and feet. He trained himself to get used to it and he did eventually.

Between them, Deadpool’s stomach growled. He groaned and clutched his belly, which Peter didn’t actually think as a belly. He knew and wasn’t going to deny that Deadpool was very muscular. The incident earlier in the warehouse was the first time Peter met the merc officially. Peter saw him all around the news and newspapers, saw him walking around in his suit once carrying a bag of mexican food, and yeah, it was noticeable that Deadpool was indeed, a muscular man.

“Care for some chimichangas?”

“What’s with you and Mexican food?” Spiderman began to stand up. Thinking he accepted the invitation, Deadpool scrambled on his feet.   
“Mexicans should be praised and bowed to for their food.” Deadpool proudly stated.

“But you’re not Mexican.”

Deadpool leaned closer to Spiderman’s face, their noses almost brushing, “Do you need to be a mutated spider to be a hero?”

Spiderman pursed his lips, “I’m not a mutated spider.”

“Is that a no?”

“Yes?”

Deadpool pulled back confusedly, “Yes? As in you meant that you can’t be a hero if you’re not a mutated spider? Or no? I’m so confused with all these affirmative and negative answers—“

“No, I mean, you’re right. You’ve got a point.” Spiderman elaborated, rolling his eyes underneath the mask, “How did chimichangas lead up to this?”

“You being weird.” Deadpool answered, “So yes to chimichangas?”

“Nah.” Spiderman shot a web to the next building, holding onto it as he stepped closer to the edge, “Bye, Deadpool.” But as he jumped off the building, Deadpool yelped and jumped after him. He hit failure as he missed his grip on Spiderman’s body. God, just a big toe to hang on to, please.

“Spidey!” Deadpool shouted, arms flailing as he fell down.

Spiderman cursed. He yanked off his web and followed after Deadpool. He shot a web at the merc, who got webbed on the chest, before he webbed at a crane from his free hand. They dangled on the crane, with Spiderman huffing continuously as he looked down at Deadpool hanging onto the thin but very strong web. He stayed there until Deadpool got the initiative to climb up the web slowly.

“You are such a headache.” Spiderman grumbled as Deadpool hugged around his waist, his face near Spiderman’s hip. Deadpool took the chance, of course he did, and he nuzzled his face on Spiderman’s tailbone.

Spiderman yelped, “Deadpool, I swear if you don’t quit that, I will drop you.”

“Not letting go.” Deadpool tightened his arms and curled himself up to curl his legs around Spiderman’s ankles. Spiderman swung them to safety, with the hero stumbling as he forced Deadpool away from him, “We could’ve died, right there.”   
“When you say ‘we’, you mean you.” Deadpool stretched his arms, groaning.

“I’m gonna go.” Spiderman pointed behind his back, walking away backwards slowly, “And you’re not going to pull another stunt.”

“Who said I’m not going to?” Deadpool began to run, just a joke to mess with the spider, and Spiderman walked until his heels were on the edge of the building. He flipped Deadpool off before he fell backwards. Deadpool peered over the edge, a huge grin under his mask as he watched, amused, as Spiderman swung from building to building. Now, how does Wade get out of here.

//

It’s been a year and Deadpool still sought for Peter’s attention. Fuck, just a little look. All he needed was a glance from him; he’d take it even if was full of judgment.

[I miss Petey, too.]

(I think we’re in a little deep.)

[What we’ll kill for us to be deep in Peter right now.]

(Oh my God, that’s disrespectful.)

[What...?]

Wade was leaning against a wall in an alley, wearing his usual brown hoodie and jacket over it. Peter was walking away from the grocery story he had been in. He looked much older now. He had larger biceps and a larger body, but Wade knew Peter would still be as small if he stood beside him, practically blanketing him, but not as ... frightening though.

[Hey no. Snap out of it.]

Peter was gorgeous as fuck with or without glasses, exhausted and stressed or not, with or without clothes—

(That shall never be removed from the list)

[What list?]

(List of baby Petey’s beautiful things.)

\--- and Wade could never face him, literally, with a face like that. He wasn’t scared of rejection, if anything, he was tired of it, but the only rejection he couldn’t take just had to be Peter’s. It was better to hide than try to fish for anything if he already knew it’ll get chucked back to his face. Nobody could ever love a man like him, even if it was Peter. He wanted to call his name and see if Peter would look back.

[Of course he would, dumbass, someone called his name.]

(I thought this was an action fanfiction.)

[Bitch you thought.]

//

“Aaaal! I brought you your eggs! And some extra tacos which you hate so much. I’ll probably just end up eating it, but it’s the thought that counts.” Wade dumped the egg tray on the counter. He slipped off his leather boots to slip on his Powerpuff Girls slippers, “Yes, it’s like nutting for the first time.”

Wade landed on the couch, stretching his limbs. The cut on his leg is still bleeding, his blood dripping on Al’s dirty red carpet. He removes his mask, rolling his neck from side to side while rubbing it. While cooking (we don’t know how Al does it), Al spoke, “Did you get lucky this time?”

Wade wanted to dismiss the conversation already, “What do you mean?”

“Your boy.” My boy, “Did you get into his pants and get to fondle his balls because I’m tired of hearing it.”

“I prefer the term; get into his shirt and get to fondle his heart.” Wade grumbled, “I wish I did,” and then, “You don’t know how difficult it is to face him with a face like this.”

“Looks are just a bonus in a package.”

“No, it’s everything.” Wade interjected, “For you, I’m probably a sexy fucker with a nice front and back because I have a nice voice, but oh, you don’t know how I look like.”

“Do you think that boy would freak out over your looks if he was so in love with you?”

“Oh, he won’t be in love with me if he sees what I’ve become.” Wade snorted. He really wasn’t proud of himself, surprise surprise.

“You speak ridiculous.”

“Oh, leave some for me.” Wade wailed dramatically, “Now I look and sound ridiculous. I’m speaking the truth.”

“And I thought I was the blind one between us.”

The same thing also happened with Weasel. They were sitting on his couch, Wade’s pizza palace behind the said couch. Weasel pinched his nose as soon as he entered, “So this is the house you’ve been living in with a blind old lady. Didn’t know your preferences but I’m shocked.”

“Shut up.” Wade slipped off his mask and plopped down on his messed up couch, “And I’m bound to move out and get an apartment as soon as I can. I just don’t have time to look for one.”

Weasel took a second look at the couch, “Tell me if other activities have occurred in that couch.”

“Other than beating off, nope.” Wade answered unbashedly. Weasel took the space beside him. Wade looked at him for a second before shaking his head.

“Haven’t been with anyone?” Weasel leaned forward to take a beer, cracking the lid off with his teeth.

“Couple of times.”

“No luck for Peter?”

“Ugh, don’t even bring that up. I’m like a desperate little girl having a big crush on that wonderful boy.”

“You are, though.” Weasel agreed. He crossed his arms after putting down his bottle, “When are you going to see that Peter loves you?”

[Stop trying, buddy, he’s more blind than Al is.]

(Is that even a thing? More blind?)

[It is in this big guy’s situation.]

“It’s like... a year ago, or probably more than. I’m sure he forgot about me. Peter could get anyone he want; he won’t settle for a man like me.”   
“Oh my God.” Weasel said under his breath, “You’re so hung up on him. I thought the whole quitting-your-illegal-job was it but... guess not.”

“Yeah, well, I love Peter a whole fucking lot.”

“But uh... you have another boy with you, yeah? Seen it on newspapers. Spiderman, your friendly neighbourhood.” Weasel shifted the topic.

“He’s just a friend.” Wade said, then corrected himself, “Not even a friend, really. He’s nice, though. A little bit sassy and he has a nice ass.”

[He left us dangling on his feet on a high building and a warehouse surrounded by cops. Talk about nice.]

(Technically, he didn’t leave us when we’re hanging onto his feet.)

[Same thing.]

(?!)

[I think we developed a foot fetish]

(?!?!)

“Is he anything like Parker?”

“Nah..” Wade shook his head, “Peter tends to get really shy like a hedgehog and Spiderman’s... different in a way. I mean, their voices sound alike but then again, I haven’t heard Peter’s voice in ages.”

  
“I would pay if someone writes about Spiderman being Peter Parker and you two just playing blindly and getting all over the place.”

  
[Pay up.]

  
(That’s basically it.)

  
“That’s impossible.” Wade shrugged, although he was quietly wishing it wasn’t.

  
//

  
Peter slipped off his suit and dropped it straight into the laundry after dusting off some dust. From there, going commando, he tiredly walked to his room and changed into some better fitting clothes. Spandex majority of the day isn’t exactly comfortable. He should be able to tolerate it, considering he’d been Spiderman for a long time now.

In his room, Peter cleaned his room, but after cleaning, the pinned papers, pictures  and this map on his wall begged to differ. Peter crossed out one picture, a place where he thinks Wade would be. Until now, even after a year, he still believed Wade was alive. After disappearing like a bubble that one particular night, Peter was sleepless. He roamed the streets looking for him almost everyday until he decided that it would be better if he looked for Wade as Spiderman.

Peter stared at a picture of the place Wade used to work at. He was informed of his jobs, and when he found out that Wade killed people for money, he went absolute ape shit on him. From then on, Wade had gotten more decent jobs. Peter didn’t know if Wade would still go there (or be actually alive to go there) but he was willing to try.

Peter made sure to eat a proper meal and rest as much as he could before he would go out again to patrol and look for Wade. Once he’d eaten and watched at least five episodes of Friends, he stood up to grab his suit which was already dried by the drier. He folded it and stuffed it in his backpack. He got dressed in some soggy dark jeans, a shirt and a dark green button shirt he left unbuttoned. He then grabbed his coat and slipped it on before he was on his way.

He decided to be just Peter Parker in that one. Going there as Spiderman would be risky for him. Who knows how many people want him killed?   
He entered just as quick as the eyes all turned towards him. Seeing an unfamiliar face must be unacceptable to them. Peter stood there, frozen, until a voice from the bar called out, “Oh come on guys, lay off the kid.” And almost immediately the glares weren’t on him anymore.

Peter went to the man, “Hey.” He gripped his bag straps and pushed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose. He knew it: it was unfitting for a guy like him, with a bagpack and large glasses, to walk into a place like this where everyone else wore leather jackets and got gun holsters on their belts.

The man seemed familiar to him. They had similar glasses. “What can I get you, son?” Son, goddamn did he really look that young? He was twenty-three for fuck’s sake.

“I’m looking for uh...” Peter snapped his fingers, “Whistle?” It was a horrible guess, but he only met one of Wade’s friends, except for The Avengers. That is, if Wade considers them as friends.

“Whistle?” The man laughed, “That is a horrible name but mine sounds incredibly close. I’m Weasel.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s you.” Peter gestured to his face, “I recognized the glasses.”

“What’d you need?”

“You’re a friend of Wade Wilson.” Peter said as if he was already so sure, “I’m—“

“Peter Parker.” Weasel seemed to be in awe, openly gaping at him. He shook his head quickly, “Yeah, yeah I am- I was.”

Peter nodded his head slowly. He took a seat, resting his arms on the counter, “Do you, by any chance, know where he is?”

The man looked at him, “No, no, I.. I haven’t seen him for a long time.”   
Peter stared at him, then at the counter. Weasel attended to other people for a few moments before Peter came back to him, “I’m going to give you my number, and you tell me when you, by any chance, see Wade.”

“Demanding.” Weasel muttered as he fished out his phone. Peter typed in his phone and took Weasel’s number as well.

Peter pocketed his phone, “I’ll come by sometime later.”   
“Any particular day?”   
“Just when I feel like it.” Peter shrugged. He nodded at the man before he turned around to walk away. Some men leaned back to get a look on Peter’s figure and Weasel raised an eyebrow at them, “He’s taken, horndogs.”   
//   
“You’re shitting me.” Wade rolled his eyes as he slipped on his shoes. He stood to look for his mask. He didn’t even remember where he last put it. He pressed the phone between his ear and shoulder as he searched around his room, “How should I believe you? You’re the worst fucking friend ever.”

“I told you he did!” Weasel argued from the other line, “He said he was going to come by sometime later so when you come by here, make sure—“

“No, I’m never going there.” Wade quickly said.

[*cough* coward.]

“Wade, he was looking for you. If he didn’t love you anymore, he wouldn’t even try.”

Wade huffed as he finally spotted his mask. He flipped his pillow over and he slipped it on, pressing his phone back to his ear again, “Don’t get my hopes up.” He said before he hung up, tossing his phone behind him. It was unbelievable how Peter would come looking for him. After a year of Wade looking after Peter, Peter hadn’t been acting weird enough as if he was looking for Wade. He’s positive Peter wouldn’t expect him.

Wade made a little trip to the bathroom, unzipping himself and doing his business. There was a mirror across from him and yeah, he was glad he had his mask on already.

[When will my reflection show who I am insiiiide.]

(I am beautiful no matter what they say. Words can’t bring me down.)

“Fuck off.” Wade muttered to himself, tucking himself back in. He had another job today, and he wished he’d come across Spidey even just a short while. He wanted company.

Company was hard to find. He was walking on the usual busy street of New York, confidently strutting in his suit and weapons like it’s his job and completely legal. People always think he’s one of those cosplayers. Completely convenient. He was owning that street, listening to his personal music when he bumped into a fucker.

“Hey, watch...” Wade’s voice started to lower down as he stepped back and saw who it was he bumped, “... it.”

Peter was fucking staring at him. He was looking up and those brown eyes are so wide Wade could practically see his whole world.

[Wait, I didn’t know you ate a fuck ton of cheese earlier.]

(You’re so cheesy we could barf.)

“I-... you’re Deadpool.” He stammered out. He had his camera slung around his neck. Wade figured he was still working for that newspaper, still getting yelled at by that shitty NAZI or whatever his name was.   
Wade fishmouthed a bit—

[Fish mouthed? Does that mean we have fish breath?]

(Wait, wait what?)

“No, I uh.. cosplay.” Wade stammered, lowering his voice down opposite from his usual voice, “Guy’s crazy handsome.”

“You haven’t seen his face.” Peter laughed. Wade almost wanted to borrow his camera and take a picture of him.

“I don’t need to see for me to know.” Wade winked under his mask which was completely useless.

“Yeah, well, nice meeting you.” Peter smiled and walked past him, fumbling something with his complicated camera. Wade watched his retreating form, “Nice seeing you, too.”

[Fuck, what just happened?]

So Wade ignored his boxes and set off for his job. He tried hard not to think about it much, but as he was slicing men’s throats, chopping their limbs and fingers up, shooting their eyes off and giving them wedgies, he couldn’t help but see Peter’s face again. They had talked about Wade’s killing spree during his jobs a lot of times. Peter clearly said that if Wade managed to kill the mastermind and if he really deserved to die, he could live with it. Wade also remembered how Peter locked his room for two days straight when Wade killed a fuck ton of civillians working for the target. They were really opposite. Peter was a walking god; all glorious and wonderful and knew all his morals and Wade was just a bystander while Peter walked on his face; knowing all the morals yet choosing to ignore them.

Wade didn’t even notice he was distracted. All he saw was a blade flashing across his face and soon there was a horizontal cut on his beautiful, beautiful skin. It was a diagonal cut starting from the side of his forehead, the bridge of his nose and his left cheek. Wade stumbled back as soon as the cut was made, “You did not just—motherfucker.” He unsheathed his katana, twirling it between his fingers.

The man who attacked him advanced towards him, taking large stomping steps. Wade did the same and as soon as the man was near enough, he jumped over the asshole, landing behind him. Wade stabbed him from behind, then pushed him off his blade. The man dropped to his knees and down to his face on the concrete. Deciding to have a little fun, Wade turned him over. The man was drowning in his own blood. Wade swept to the side in a diagonal line, and then another one. Soon there was a large deep ‘X’ cut on the man’s chest

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment your thoughts below yo


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update how are you guys doing

**Chapter Three: Pool Photoshoot**

“Parker.” Peter almost sighed heavily until his last dying breath as Jameson called him. He made his way to the office, prepared to be yelled at and threatened to be fired.

“Sir?"

“I know you’re Spiderman’s—“ Jameson couldn’t have said the hero’s name in a more bitter tone, “—‘personal photographer’, well, most of the times, but I want you to take Deadpool as well.”

“Deadpool.” Peter nodded slowly, “Yeah.. alright.”

“Good, now get out. You’re wasting my time. And those pictures better be good.” Peter didn’t have the slightest idea why Jameson would have such a sour attitude. Rumors between his coworkers and him consisted of Jameson being old enough to catch the World War II happen that it traumatized him.

Peter exited the office and sat down on his desk for a few minutes. He just walked past Deadpool earlier. Real Deadpool, mind you. He was shit at lying. Also, he smelled like gun powder and confidence.

Although what he worried about was how the hell is he going to take pictures of Deadpool? The antihero was famous for his murder scenes and Peter couldn’t exactly follow him, as Peter, while he was on the... job. He couldn’t put on his suit either, even though being Spiderman would help him lure the man to him. Somehow, he was amusing to the mouthy man. He didn’t know why and how.

Peter slapped himself in the forehead. Deadpool was also a simple man, actually; walking along the streets like Beyonce walked on catwalks, grabbing cabs and whatnot although that wasn’t quite appealing to the eye, though. Hailing a cab wasn’t exactly as badass as Deadpool was. This was going to be tougher than he thought.

He spent his whole day patrolling. He ran into some group of teenagers vandalizing a wall in an alley. He just webbed up their spray cans out of their reach before sending their own way. He could feel the daggers behind his back as he swung out of the place. He received that quite a lot. It seemed like some people still weren’t okay with him.

As usual, Peter picked his building and sat on the edge of it. He tossed his bag behind him. He always loved being in high places. Aside from his apartment, Peter found comfort in places like these. He just loved the quiet, but ironically he dated Wade, who was anything but quiet. He just had a running mouth that never seemed to get tired. Peter could ask him about the weather and he could answer him in a simple manner which leads to a thought of the sun, then the planets, then the moon, and then the revolution and the existence of aliens. Peter loved it.

He missed Wade. God, he really did. He missed his voice, his jokes, his strong demeanor and at the same time his vulnerability, his smell, his touch, his everything and Jesus, it’s been a year since Wade disappeared. Part of Peter was believing he was dead but Peter wasn’t giving up that easy. He loved Wade but if he ever saw him again, he would give a few punches and web him to the ceiling for leaving.

Peter looked down to the streets, seeing tiny tiny little circle of heads walking around. He tried searching for that familiar head but as always, he could only hope. Peter laid on his back, resting his hands behind his back. He stared at the clear sky above him, beginning to doze off.   
Until he heard a slight whirring sound from nearby, his Spidey-senses tingling. He looked around him. He stood up to get a better look and followed the sound. The sound led him to a grappling hook held tightly on the ledge of the building. It was red and black, and oh God. He stepped back a few steps, already expecting a certain someone.

Deadpool sprung up, “Wee!” He yelled in glee before he landed on the rooftop, the hook attaching to his hip again, “Spidey-babe! You were expecting me!”

“Probably, but not in a good way.” Peter turned around and started to walk away. He sensed Deadpool move to grab him, and he shot a web to the ground and pulled himself forward faster than Deadpool’s hands.

  
“Aw, damnit.” Deadpool’s pout was obvious, “You cheated.”

“Is that so?” Peter subtly kicked his bagpack off to where it couldn’t be seen by Deadpool.

Deadpool snorted and crossed his arms, “Way to be discreet. You may be quick but you’re horrible at hiding.”

“Is that why you always manage to find me?” Peter stood at the edge, hands at his hips. Deadpool looked at him from behind, subconsciously biting down on his tongue as he saw Peter’s figure completely being justified by the angle of the sunlight. Every curve of his body was perfectly highlighted and goddamnit.

[Hubba hubba]

(*chokes on sweat*)

[Wait, wait, this was supposed to be Spiderman’s POV.]

(Okay, okay, gee, so rude.)

“Yup.” Deadpool answered confidently. He walked up beside Peter, “I don’t know why you find high places like this... comforting.” He looked down and they were probably 40 storeys high, “I feel like dying in a second.”

As a joke, Peter slapped his hand on Deadpool’s back hard and it caught the man off guard. He lost his balance and he flailed his arms, making a scared noise before Peter was laughing and pulling him back, safe off the edge.

“Not cool, bro.” Deadpool pretended to be offended, “Maybe I should punch you in the face, see if your weak-ass healing factor works. You really want to see me fall off a building, don’t you?”

Peter calmed himself, standing himself upright from doubling over, “Yeah, I do.” He stifled a laugh. It was his first time seeing Deadpool like that. Normally, he kept his composure pretty well.

Peter almost got hit in the face when Deadpool suddenly spread his arms, letting gravity take over as he turned around and fell. Peter’s eyes widened under the mask, and he shrieked, “Deadpool!” before he was jumping after, body straight. He then shot a web at Deadpool’s chest, and the man opened his eyes and burst out laughing, both of his hands grasping the web.

“You little!—“ Peter groaned as he shot another web at a nearby crane. He pulled his arm back to gain speed and shot another to a building. While Peter was struggling swinging them, Deadpool was indeed enjoying his little ride, spreading his limbs and doing a little spin.

Soon they were at a top of another building yet again. Peter groaned and paced slowly. His bag was left blocks and blocks away. Deadpool rose to his feet from he landed quit roughly because of Spiderman, “Woo! That was so-o-o fun! Let’s do it again!” He began to run towards the edge once again.

Peter sighed heavily. He webbed Deadpool’s feet and Deadpool yelped. Only, he was already near the edge when he was webbed so he fell forward, his whole torso falling, “Spidey!”

Peter webbed his lower half to the building so Deadpool was forced to look down. The man protested, “Aww, webhead! You’re just going to—umpf.” Peter had used Deadpool’s body as some sort of a diving board before he jumped off, shooting web after web and swinging from building to building.

Peter grabbed his bag as soon as he landed on the previous building. He really needed to submit pictures of Spiderman and Deadpool asap. By asap, meaning tomorrow. Jameson wasn’t a man of patience at all. Peter moved down the staircase on the way to the rooftop before he slipped his clothes on. He pulled off his mask and shoved it in his bag.

He grabbed his camera and he went back out again. He walked near the edge, looking to the direction where he left Deadpool. “Please, please, please.” Peter silently pleaded as he watched any particular movement. Just one shot. Just one shot of Deadpool at least swinging with his grappling hook.

Peter looked through the camera and zoomed in. It was way too far. Peter kicked at the concrete, “Damnit.” Before he grabbed his bag and continued to climb down the stairs. He was going to get that picture no matter what it took. After walking out of the building, he continued to walk towards the direction of the building he webbed Deadpool on. He probably had at least fifteen minutes to escape the web without falling. Or... five seconds due to his katanas.

Peter quickened his pace. His camera was already held in his hands, the strap slung around his neck loosely. He stopped around the corner, hiding behind an alley. People looked at him weird, but Peter just thought they looked worse with that look on their faces.

“Woohoo! Coming through!” Deadpool’s voice was easy to recognize and Peter thanked every god there was before he followed the voice. He saw Deadpool hanging behind a large truck. Peter jogged after it, taking shots after shots after shots. He didn’t know if he could even make good shots with that but it wasn’t an easy job taking pictures of a someone who’s on a moving truck.

After the antihero was out of sight, Peter sighed. He was quite sweaty. Heck, he was wearing spandex under a shirt, jeans and a jacket after jogging, who wouldn’t feel hot?

//

“You call these shits worthy of your salary, Parker?” The pictures went flying everywhere, and Peter momentarily closed his eyes to a) avoid getting hit in the eye and get a paper cut and b) up his conscience and c) stop himself from pouncing from his devil-sent boss.

“It’s difficult to take Deadpool because he barely do missions like I- aah..” Peter coughed heavily, “-Like Spiderman does.”

“You expect me to want to read about Deadpool, a superhero with a bulky physique and known for murders, riding behind a taco truck? Do you think that attracts people, Parker?”

 _‘Sure, as long as you think of a creative, catchy lie like you always do.’_ Peter thought, “No, sir.”

That seemed to be an enough answer for Jameson, and he continued, “Good. Now hand me those Spiderman pics and redo your Dsadpool ones.”

Peter slid the Spiderman photos to Jameson and shoved the Deadpool ones in his bag. He exited the office with heavy steps. He didn’t know what he could do to get Deadpool’s pictures as good as Spiderman’s. Obviously, Jameson had set his preferences on Peter’s pictures straight and he would only accept pictures as good as Spiderman’s, if not better.

Peter went on a nearby alley to get changed into Spiderman. He would do some patrolling first to get his mind off of Jameson. He spotted a dumpster and he went behind it to slip his clothes off. He was about to slip his shirt off when he heard footsteps. He quickly pulled it back on as well as his bag, “Shit.”

“I gave you the money! What do you want?!” A man’s voice pleaded. Peter began to subtly slip his shirt off again, hoping no one would see him.

“Aw sorry bud, but someone gave a higher price than you. Higher the better you know.” Deadpool. Of course it was. Peter quickly changed as fast as he could while the two conversed. He kicked his bag further behind the dumpster before he jumped on top of it, crouching down as he glared at the antihero.

“Spidey!” Deadpool’s smile could almost be detected from his tone, although he was still pointing the gun towards the man.

“Put the gun down, Deadpool.” Peter spoke, and he didn’t even flinch when Deadpool turned the aim towards him.

The merc looked like he was really going to shoot, his hand shaking but then he lowered it momentarily and grumbled, “Damnit, now I can’t even scare you. I think I may be a little over lovey-dovey with you, my arachnid.”

The man between them was glancing back and forth. While Deadpool was rambling, he was stepping to the side to make a run past the dumpster but Deadpool raised his gun again, “Yeah try to run and a bullet’s not only gonna be the reason why you’re dead.”

“Deadpool, stop it.” Spiderman firmly said, “He’s an innocent man—“

“You won’t be saying that once you see his records.” Deadpool argued, “Do you want to recite for you? It’s a long list, surprisingly, I remembered most of them like a highschool student don’t remember notes.”

Peter stood his ground, “I’ll take care of him. I’ll take him to the cops.”

“Don’t ruin this for me, Spidey.”

“And I won’t let you ruin a man’s life.” Peter stated. He jumped down from the dumpster and crossed his arms, “Killing them won’t do you anything.”

“Yes, it will. I get to take home the bacon, baby.” Deadpool lowered the gun finally as he placed his hands on his hips, “How ‘bout you, webhead? What do you get when you let go of these kind of people? A pat in the back? I think you don’t even get one.”

The man, completely ignoring their argument, began to run away from the two of them. Deadpool was about to raise his gun but Peter’s senses went off before it could happen. He webbed Deadpool’s hands into fists before he turned back to web the man into a cocoon. Once a cocoon, Peter hung him in the air.

  
Sirens were heard. As usual, police were late. Peter sighed heavily and looked back at Deadpool, who was staring at him hopefully. Peter pulled his lips into a straight line as he offered his arm, but Deadpool latched onto his everything. He was obviously taking advantage of the moment from the way his legs wrapped around Peter’s waist and his arm around Peter’s torso.

“Ugh.” Peter groaned as he swung them out of the alley. Deadpool whispered, “I’m like that girlfriend of the superhero of a superhero movie.” Peter couldn’t understand how fast they transitioned from arguing to almost killing each other to latching onto one another. Well, not to one another. Peter was using his wrists to shoot web after web and Deadpool tried his hardest not to fall. Still.

Peter dropped the man off a random street, getting whispers from the bystanders. They didn’t look too cosplay-y now, did they? As Deadpool was dropped off, he waved his huge, bulky arm as Peter left immediately. The man could handle himself from the cops.

//

“How was your day, Peter?” Aunt May asked. Peter was over for dinner at her house, his childhood home. He missed it so much. He was feeling quite homesick earlier when he went to his apartment so he decided to pay his aunt a visit. Aunt May was ecstatic, although she didn’t have enough ingredients from what she wanted to cook so they went grocery shopping for a little while.

Now, Peter was slicing some chicken while Aunt May was getting started on the pasta. Peter answered, “Uh.. nothing much. Jameson made me take pictures of Deadpool now, and when I gave him the pictures, he said a few words.”

“Oh, that NAZI-looking—“ Aunt May cut herself off with a sigh, “You should really apply for another job, Peter, with a much nicer boss.” 

Peter ignored her second comment, “NAZI-looking.” He chuckled.

Aunt May waved a hand and laughed, “I got that from Wade.”

“Yeah.” Peter bit the inside of his lip, “Jameson still has that gray mustache on his face.”

“Seems to be his signature look.” Then Aunt May silenced. Peter knew what she was going to ask, “Have you found him? Any clue?”

Peter sighed, “No, Aunt May.” He looked at her and offered her a smile, “And I’m not giving up. As long as I can’t see a new grave with the name Wade Winston Wilson, I’m not stopping.”

Aunt May smiled lovingly at the perseverance of his nephew, “I will be the second person he should hug if you two ever see each other again.”

“I’ll be the first.” Peter smiled.

“Well,” Aunt May shifted the topic, “Who’s this Deadpool you mentioned earlier?”

“He’s a uh.. well, he’s kind of a superhero, but not.. he doesn’t act like one. He just looks like one. He has this abilities and he’s good at weapons and combat.” Peter described.

“Why is his name Deadpool?” Aunt May asked again.

Peter answered, “Well, he can’t die, I heard.”

“Can’t die?”

“Yeah. He was tore from limb to limb, decapitated, burned, shot in the head, stabbed; all the ways ranging from possible to plain ridiculous.” Peter put the chicken aside.

“So he’s immortal?”

“Yeah.” Peter nodded.

The two spent their dinner together, chatting and laughing together. After dinner, Peter helped her clean the kitchen up before he decided it was time to leave. It was hard leaving Aunt May all on her own but he independent to the core and she was one to practically kick him out.

“Bye Aunt May.” Peter kissed her cheek goodbye, “I’ll visit some time. Thanks for the dinner.” Peter left after he made sure Aunt May locked the door.

Peter walked on the streets, his eyes casted down to the concrete but ears opened from any sort of emergency. He was about to slip through an alley to change, but as he made the turn, he bumped into a large figure. He stumbled back, gasping, “D-Deadpool.”

He smelled something metallic, and he then noticed the blood dripping from the man’s gloves. He had a knife sticking from his temple and another one on his shoulder. Peter was frozen. It was his first time seeing Deadpool fatally wounded and he didn’t know how we react to it.

The antihero stepped back. Peter suddenly felt small at his stare. Suddenly he spoke, “Oh! Oh, don’t worry, cute bystander. This is nothing.” Deadpool waved a hand. He then proceeded to yank the knife from his shoulder. He groaned and stretched it, making blood squirt out of it.

Peter made a sound and stumbled back. Jesus, he acted like he hadn’t seen blood. “Sorry ‘bout that.” Deadpool then took out the knife on his temple. He lost his footing for a bit. Peter stretched his arms instinctively, ready in case he falls and Deadpool quickly regained his balance. He noticed Peter’s arms, “No need for that, four eyes. I’ve got a kickass healing factor. Now, I best be going.” He hurried. He even had time to pat Peter’s head with his clean glove before he went on his way. 

Peter touched his hair. He brought it down and there were hints of blood in it. Peter changed immediately to see if he could follow him. He didn’t know what for, but he felt more intrigued by Deadpool’s personality now that they’ve done surprise patrols together.

Peter lost him for a bit, but then he saw a flash of red down below from a low roof. He followed it, swung from post to post before he landed on a roof. He crawled down the wall to peek around the sides. He was well hidden, and Deadpool just passed by him. Peter saw the man enter a bar, and then Peter realized it was the same bar Wade’s friend owned, the one he went to a few days ago.

Spiderman sat on its roof, glancing down every now and then when he hears the door. He became impatient and soon he was questioning himself. Why would he waste his tome looking for Deadpool and not watch over his city? Peter shook his head. He was upset of himself. He huffed and webbed himself out of the place, pushing Deadpool at the back of his mind and the city up front.

What he didn’t see was Weasel stepping out with a hooded man, bidding him goodbye before the hooded man went on his own way.

[Yay, we’re back!]

(Sudden POV Change.)

“Man, I think you’re one step closer to getting lucky.” Weasel patted Wade on the shoulder as he laughed. Wade had told him a certain events that happened; like how he bumped into Peter twice in two days. It was unbelievable.

“He was horrified when he saw me earlier.” Wade scratched at his bullet wound. It was dry already, and he was thankful because he didn’t have to wash his hoodie and jacket if it continued to bleed.

“You had a knife on your head and shoulder and you were bleeding. Who wouldn’t be horrified?” Weasel gave him a look, “Imagine if he saw your face.”

“Thanks for the boost, friend.” Wade rolled his eyes, “Fuck, I see him twice in a row and I fucking miss him.”

“Then show up.” Weasel suggested, “He’ll be more upset when he found out you hid yourself from him.”

“Can’t show up like this.” Wade gritted his teeth, “I can’t. Do you even see this ugly shit? No one digs this look.”

“Maybe some of your crazy had rubbed up on Peter? That he’d be insane enough to accept you?”

“Peter was with me when I was a hot bloke, alright? When I had a body to die for and skin as smooth as anyone’s mothers—“ Weasel winced, “—and you think he’d still love me when I’m like this? I’ve tried burning myself to try and get rid of these but they’re stuck with me like my soul’s gonna be covered in them, too.”

“You have no soul.” Weasel pointed out, “Peter’s not shallow. He has a heart, unlike you. You’re the same person as you were when you’re with Peter. What makes you think he wouldn’t love you now?”

“No one can stand a face like this!” Wade stood up abruptly, ripping his hood off his bald head. Weasel noticeably shivered and Wade glared at him. Weasel raised his hands up, “Man, I still like you even if your face nauseates and haunts me.”

Wade paced back and forth, “There isn’t even a cure for this disease, fuck.”

Weasel leaned back and crossed his arms, “How am I going to convince you?”

“You can’t. No one can.” Wade said.

“Your bald head is harder to crack than I thought.”

//

Peter read the headline on Daily Bugle. As usual, it was pure mock. He didn’t know where Jameson’s anger came from, and he also didn’t know why he bothered reading the headlines of this shitty newspaper. He went back to his apartment to eat something before he went on patrol once again. Peter was so busy day and night, Aunt May and some of his office mates and friends thought had another job. He only earned so little as a photographer and he earned... well, dignity, satisfaction and safety from being Spiderman.

Peter relaxed on his couch as he ate some burgers he bought on the way home. After sating and a bit of napping, he slid into his Spiderman suit before he was off again. Like he always did, he sat on top of his usual building, his bag kicked to the side. He couldn’t really go without it. He had to bring his clothes, his phone, and everything he needed. It kind of ruined the superhero suit.

He sat there for at least an hour, just watching people and letting the cops take care of the minor crimes. He swore the police hated his guts for being this vigilante but his ways were more effective so they lost.

“Damn, Mr. Sneaky Spidey.” A voice sounded from behind him. Peter turned around, groaning when he saw Deadpool rummaging through his bag. He was holding the pictures he took from where he was on the truck. Spiderman webbed them and yanked them off Deadpool’s hands. He also did the same to his bag before the merc could get his hands on it again.

Deadpool put his hands on his hips. Even without the mask, Peter knew there was a shit-eating smirk on his lips, “I never knew you had the looks on this big guy.” He flexed his biceps, “You play very hard to get but turns out you’re the one who wants to get in my pants! What a lovely, lovely surprise. I didn’t even realize it was my birthday! Because this is surely one birthday present I can cherish forever and ever.”

Spiderman scoffed and he threw the pictures behind his shoulder and doooown it fell. Deadpool pushed past him harshly, yelling, “Nooo!” He turned to Peter, “What have you done?!” He placed his gloved hands over his cheeks, mouth wide. Well, Peter only assumed his mouth was open from the way his mask stretched down.

“Ending your dreams.” Peter shoved his bag in the corner away from Deadpool.

Ignoring his statement, Deadpool looked at Peter’s bag, “I know you already copied my suit but I am now giving you the permission to add pouches to your suit so you won’t get to carry that super-costume-ruiner anywhere you go, especially on emergencies. Once I was just casually walking down the street, minding my own business and this kid goes like, ‘OMG! Spiderman?! You’re my hero!’ and I almost pulled the trigger on him. Almost! I didn’t, though.”

Peter glared at him, “I didn’t copy your suit. I made this myself. I originated this suit.”

“Original or not, mine’s obviously better. It looks so bad ass and trendy.” Deadpool grabbed the spandex stretched tight over his thigh and snapped it back to his skin

“And I’m not adding pouches to my suit.” Peter added, “What do you even keep in them? Lunch boxes? Spare change?”

Deadpool clutched his chest, “You hurt my feelings. Alright, you got me.” He reached to his left hip and jiggled one pouch. A sound emitted from it. It sounded like coins clanking. Peter stifled a laugh.

“But just because I don’t swing back and forth between buildings, doesn’t mean I’m not as cool as you are.” Deadpool flipped an imaginary hair, “I also happen to be a regular normal good ol’ human being under this extravagant attire.”

“Doubt it.”

“You hurt my feelings!” Deadpool gasped dramatically, “Again! I never knew you can into sadism, you sadistic arachnid. “

“Yeah, I enjoy humiliating and hurting only you.” Peter monotoned.

Deadpool wiggled his eyebrows under his mask, “Are you into bondage and dominance, too?”

Peter winced, “God, you’re messed up.”

“It’s like you don’t even know me, Spidey! You—“

“Right, I don’t. I really don’t.” Peter shrugged, “I only met you like, what? A week ago?”

“A week ago?! God, it already felt like years!” Deadpool exaggerated, “But that’s probably because I mostly spent my past year ogling at you while you shoot those webs—“ He copied Peter’s wrists, folding his middle and ring fingers down, “—and play around the city like it’s a big monkey bar. You look great in spandex, by the way. I don’t really enjoy playing matchy-matchy with anyone, though. I almost burst Matt’s head off for being red, but his little devil ears got to me. I don’t mind matching with you, though. I think you’re my favori—Spidey! Where are you going?!”

During Deadpool’s rambles, Peter’s senses went off. He peered down the edge and saw a motorcycle getting chased by a round of police cars a few streets away. He ignored Deadpool completely. He jumped off the edge and that was when Deadpool noticed him.

The larger man followed the hero with his gaze, also spotting the motorcycle causing mayhem. Deadpool stood at the ledge, and then he fell in a perfect standing position. Peter saw him of course, while he gently put down an old lady on the next street from where she was crossing. The motorcycle almost ran over them, but they were fine.

“Continue feeding your grandbabies, alright?” Why would he even say that? Peter swung out of the place immediately. He tried to chase after the motorcycle. He swung low, ignoring the angry yells from the cops.

“Yeah, I’m helping you out! You’re welcome!” He said distractedly. He looked forward, and then he saw a man fly towards him. They slammed against each other painfully. They fell on the ground with groans. Peter pushed himself up as cops circled them with their guns aimed at the motorcycle driver.

Before anyone could move, he swung himself out of there and out of the cops’ headaches. His chest hurt, and he was sure his head knocked against the man’s. He felt kinda dizzy and he attached himself on the low side of a random building as he waited for his consciousness to be back properly.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im not that good with humor bear with me


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well, I—arachnerd?” Spiderman shook his head, “Neither. But I do have a ridiculously great passion for Science.”
> 
> Wade wasn’t quick enough to stop his running mouth, “Oh! You’re like my—...“
> 
> “.. your..?” Spiderman asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back with another chappo yo. Im currently busy and stressed i hate life why was school invented

**Chapter Four: Mario Kart and Mishaps**

“Spidey? Spideykins! What are you doing?! Just hanging around?” Deadpool laughed. Peter looked down and saw him on a motorcycle, the same motorcycle the man was riding earlier. Of course. He was also wearing Peter’s bagpack. Of course.

Peter let himself fall on his feet. He wobbled a bit and shook his head. “Come on! You’re pretty woozy there.”

“Where are we even going?” Peter asked, stepping closer. He was sure he had a large bump over his head.

“I don’t know. Do you wanna hang in my apartment? You’ve already helped those ungrateful cops. Oh wait, _I_ did!” Deadpool laughed, “I can’t believe I managed not to kill him. Are you proud of me?”

“Probably.” Surprisingly, Peter hopped into the motorcycle. He kept his hands away from Deadpool. He could keep his balance.

Nope.

The minute Deadpool started to drive, he weaved through cars and people without even hitting on the brake. Not at all. Peter’s already dizzy, and he was just fighting off his lunch from making his up to his oesophagus. “Slow..—“ Peter shivered, “Slow down.” He absentmindedly put a hand on Deadpool’s waist, gripping to keep his balance.

“Are you gonna throw up all over my suit?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t see why not.’ Deadpool went faster. Jesus how far was his apartment? As they reach Deadpool’s apartment building, Peter climbed off the offending vehicle. He stumbled in his steps. He clutched the wall before Deadpool swung an arm around his waist and carried him that way.

He got his grappling hook and shot it towards a certain window. Peter yelped as they suddenly rose into the air, “Deadpool!”

As they got to the said window, Deadpool just basically threw Peter to the floor. Peter groaned, doubling over before pushing himself to his knees, “Was that necessary?!”

“You were heavier than I thought.” Deadpool climbed in through the window, “I thought you were light and all because of your small muscles—“

“Small— why do I even bother.” Peter muttered.

Deadpool unlasped his belt and all his pouches and weapons fell out. He also took out his swords and dropped them as well. “Oh, here. I went back for it.” Deadpool tossed him his bag, “If we’re gonna hang out, we should really get into comfortable clothes. I won’t mind, but not taking off my mask.”

Peter grabbed his bag and walked out of the room as Deadpool started to remove his suit. Peter had second thoughts, but he removed his suit to change into his regular clothes once he found Deadpool’s bathroom. He kept his mask on of course.

[I want us back! No more Peter POVs!]

(Miss lady writer is already on it, jeez.)

Wade found Spiderman roaming around his hall. He closed his door, “Lost?”

Spiderman jumped. He was in some jeans and a shirt, as well as a painfully familiar hoodie. He had his mask on and Wade just became more intrigued about this hero. He said with enthusiasm, “I didn’t clean, like at all, so if you see a certain pizza castle on the back of the couch in my livingroom, I suggest you refrain from taking any pictures from how beautiful and majestic it can be. I’m secretly a secret artist.”

“That’s some secret.” Spiderman laughed and shook his head. Wade was sure he could see the scars and sores all over his skin. He was only wearing some boxers and a tank top and his mask. Spiderman took no mind of it, “Don’t worry. I’ll try to hide my camera as much as possible. How long have you lived here, anyway?”

“Not too long. I just moved out of... this place.” He left Momma Al so he could go live on his own. Besides, he did have more than enough money to provide for himself. Wade went into the livingroom, and he turned on the TV to break the silence. Spiderman then saw the stack of pizza boxes, “God, you’ve only been here for a few days and you’re already owning Pizza de Plaza. Ever heard of a trash can? Or a garbage collector?”

“I’m either out on a mission, ridiculously injured or plain lazy to answer the door when they come. Pizza de Plaza, though. I like it.” Wade answered, plopping down on the couch.

“What’s your worst injury?” Spiderman asked. He sat by Wade’s legs and Wade bent his knees to give him space.

“Well, it’s not an injury, the worst thing that is.” Wade answered, mindlessly flipping through channels, “I get these random times where my skin would just send a curse to me.”

That time, Spiderman looked down at his legs, examining his skin, “They still hurt?”

“Oh yeah. It’s a painful reminder. Like a punishment for every kill I do. It’s not that bad. I just end up sweating disgustingly all over the bed.” Wade shrugged. It was so much worse than that. He felt uncomfortable with the topic being about his skin, and he shifted the topic, “How ‘bout you? I’m sure you get downfalls. I mean, I am aware of how awesome you are but y-‘know.”

Spiderman ran his hand over his wsbshooters, “I guess these things can be kind of a bummer.”

Wade sat up and looked at them eagerly, “You made those, right? That’s so cool! I never knew you were smart! Kinda nerdy, to be honest. Do you wear glasses?”

“...yeah.”

“Even better!” Wade gleefully said, “These honestly work awesome, arachnerd. How can you even make these things from scratch? I can barely figure out my own shower. Are you secretly an engineer? Or a scientist?”

“Well, I—arachnerd?” Spiderman shook his head, “Neither. But I do have a ridiculously great passion for Science.”

Wade wasn’t quick enough to stop his running mouth, “Oh! You’re like my—...“

“.. your..?” Spiderman asked.

“Friend. Real close friend. Although that was way, way before, like months and months ago.” Wade saved a hand, “Back when I was hot and juicy.”

[Alright, that was quite exaggerated.]

(And suspicious.)

[I think we’re a great liar.]

(We almost told him about Peter. Almost. Just one word out and boom.)

[Well, it’s not lying. Technically, we’re bad at hiding things.]

“When’s that?” Spiderman teased, “1800s?”

“I am not that old! I still have the flare, and the sex appeal.” Wade did jazz hands.

[Snort. Sex appeal.]

(We haven’ got laid in months.)

[... you didn’t count the one from last week.]

(It was a sex doll.)

[We’re disgusting. We have a relationship with our right hand. What a fucking loser.]

(It’s both of hands, if you know what I mean.)

“How old are you?” Spiderman asked. He rested one palm against his cheek and leaned forward as if he was really curious.

“I am forever 31.” Wade was really proud of his joke, “Get it? Forever 31? ‘Cause like—“

Spiderman did this amused, stifled laugh and Wade could almost see him roll his eyes, “Is that like, your actual age, though? You said—“

“I’m not like a 40-year-old woman who lies about her age.” Wade cut him off, “But true though, I’m 31. I don’t age.”

Spiderman’s mood came back on, “Ooh, does that mean you have twinkly, sparkly skin, too? And fangs, probably?’

Wade looked down at his scarred arms and snorted, “Yes, definitely. I have sparkly, beautiful skin.”

[Yeah, so beautiful I could cry.]

“You have lots of comparisons with a vampire.”

“I’m not a vampire. I ‘m basically just immortal and I don’t age—oh my God, I’m Edward Cullen.” Wade dramatically gasped, “Does that mean you’re my Bella? You don’t seem too emo for me. Or you can be Jacob. Bella’s irrelevant and she’s a bitch.”

“Jacob? Do you assume I swing that way?”

“Probably. You swing all the ways.” Wade wiggled his eyebrows. 

“Well, not _all_.” Spiderman snorted, "But I definitely swing that way."

[Jackpot! Dingdingdingdingding]

(I’ve never had a dream come truuue, til the day that I found you!)

[Is that a song?]

(S Club 7, baby.)

“You are, as in.. you’re—“

“Yes, Deadpool. Your friendly neighborhood Spiderman is a gay man, who likes dick, penis, balls.” Spiderman clarified.

[Well, that’s clear enough.]

(As clear as the bulge in our boxers.)

“Ah.” Wade nodded slowly, “Guess I have a chance, then.”

“Weirdo.” Spiderman chuckled.

They spent the whole afternoon playing video games: a very heated game of Mario Kart, that is. Wade really started to like Spiderman’s company. He could be a little uptight with all the no killings, no shinanigans, groans at his stunts, but this guy could be fun and loose, too.

[Kinda like Petey. He’s also fun and loose. If you know what I me—] 

(Stop! Thinking! About! Him!)

The thing was, he was getting distracted from thinking about Petey when he was with Spiderman. He still loved Peter as much as he did before but Spiderman here was quite distracting. He was a nice guy, and Wade didn’t mind him.

[Is this one of the stages of moving on?]

(Denial, Comparisons, Doubts, probably. Soon.)

[Comparisons. Are we comparing Spiderman to Peter.]

(We used to think Peter was above anyone.)

[He still is, but like, Spiderman’s catching up to him with his webshooters and sexy, unoriginal spandex suit.]

“It’s getting late.” Spiderman stood up and stretched, his top riding a little to show a little of his stomach and v-line. Wade pursed his lips and paused the game. Spiderman sighed, “Best be going home.”

“Aw, the fun has just started!” Wade shoved a big bite of pizza into his mouth. Both their masks are rolled up to their mouths.

[Lovely.]

(Proper table etiquette, mind you.)

[We have rotting pizza boxes behind a battered couch, and we’re playing Mario Kart. Who cares?]

“You talk too much.” Wade unconsciously spoke. Spiderman pursed his lips, “Uh...”

“Nah, not you.” Wade waved a hand, “I have these fucked up voices in my head.”

[Hi.]

(Hey, papi.)

[He can’t hear us, so..]

Wade ignored them, “And it’s like that cliché devil and angel on your shoulders, except they’re both devils.”

“That’s rough.” Spiderman said, ‘Quite a company.”

“Oh, yeah.” Wade agreed without hesitation, “It’s like my left and right side of brain are in this war of opinions and nonsense shit.”

[We help you out!]

(Like that one time, we help you decide if it’s chimichangas or pizza.) 

“I have them, too. Sometimes.” Spiderman shrugged, “It’s crazy.”

“Every inch and piece of me is crazy. I don’t mind crazy.” Wade snorted. He stood up and dusted his butt from the dust on the floor.

Spiderman stifled a laugh, “You should sweep the floor.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Wade picked up the empty pizza box and tossed it on top of his Pizza de Plaza. He’s pretty sure that won’t be gone for a while.

“Add some Ricky Martin into it and you’ll be fine.” Spiderman patted Wade in the shoulder before he grabbed his bag, “Can I uh... use the bathroom? Have to change.”

“The bathroom is a very sacred place. Pretty sure there’s a rat shrine in the corner. Just use my room. It’s still bearable.” Wade pointed to the hall, “Don’t look under the bed. You’re already more than horrified to see this.” He gestured to himself.

Spiderman laughed before he went back to Wade’s room to change. It was only under a minute before he came out of the hall again, skin covered with red spandex. Wade wolf-whistled, “Looking hot again. Not saying you don’t look hot earlier. You also look hot in jeans and civillian clothes. Do a flex for me.”

“I don’t know how I endured hours of playing Mario Kart with you.” Spiderman deadpanned, bag slung on his shoulder.

“You like me! No one has ever hung out with me for hours in this shitty apartment. That must mean something! Don’t deny it, Spideybabe! I see you stare at me, too!”

“That was because you looked like an idiot who starred in Dumb and Dumber.”

“Oh, so you do stare at me!”

“What— Nevermind. I’m leaving. This goodbye is getting far too stretched for my liking.” Spiderman walked to Wade’s door, until he changed his mind and walked to his hallway instead.

Wade caught up to him, leaning against the doorway as Spiderman stepped on the window, ready to fly out. He looked back at Wade, “You have a large collection under that bed.” before he jumped out, leaving Wade dumbfounded.

//

Peter pushed his window up and climbed into his room, shutting it down and drawing the curtain. He slipped his mask and suit off, folding them messily before tossing them to his closet. He grabbed a pair of boxers and shirt before he tumbled into his bed. He was tired. After that little hangout with Deadpool, he had an encounter with a robber trying to break open a car door. He took care of it, and now he was tired and just aching sleep.

That thing with Deadpool, though. The merc was fun, there was no denying that, really. Either it was in and out in the open, he could carry a mood. He enjoyed the time with Deadpool, and alright, sure, if he would be asked to hang out with him again, he wouldn’t deny it. Despite the older man’s messy, messy household, Peter would be looking forward to it.

The next day, Peter did his usual thing. He took photographs of himself and reserved Deadpool for later, got into his computer to look for a job hiring. He’d really need something more than being Jameson’s picture pet. He loved photography, sure, but he needed more money. Hopefully, he could find a job which has anything related to pictures. He also tried selling his photographs before, but not after long, it flopped, so Peter’s not up for that again.

Peter sat perched on top of a building (where’s the difference?) and he was trying to locate Deadpool, mostly wait for him to pop up and be obnoxiously yet amusingly annoying. It’s an hour later when Peter decided to give up. Damnit, he didn’t have anything to submit to Jameson.

Peter didn’t only wait an hour for Deadpool. He waited for three days. It was that long (was it?). He spent the rest of his patrols just lying down on a random rooftop and waiting for a grappling hook, or a ‘wee’ squeal that would get gradually louder, or just him popping out. Fuck, he didn’t even know why he’d be waiting for Deadpool to come back to him. He was only probably being friendly and had nothing to do with him anymore.

On the third night, Peter was arriving in his apartment from almost being ripped apart by Rhino. It was a tough one, but it was only a smack in the head by a couple of metal and it was done. Peter stripped his top off and stretched his arms, grunting as his muscles contracted and relaxed. He heard a very silent creak and he snapped around to the window. He jumped, though, seeing Deadpool struggling to fit himself on his window. He watched as Deadpool got his legs and head in, but he took a moment to fit his katanas as well.

“Alright, as I was about to say before you ruined my surprise.” He cleared his throat dramatically, “Now that is a view I want to come home to everyday.”

Peter, grateful he still had his mask on, tugged it down further his head even though it was pretty secure already. He crossed his arms, “Okay, so you disappear for days and now you stalked me to my apartment and called it home, and ogled at my body.”

Deadpool was practically gaping at Peter’s exposed chest. Peter turned back to his closet and grabbed a shirt, slipping it on quickly. Turning back around, Deadpool was still openly gawking at him. Peter rolled his eyes under the mask, “Are you done?”

Deadpool said defensively, his hands up in the air, “You cannot blame me for gawking! I mean, look at you! Jesus Christ, you’re gorgeous.”

Now, Peter was really glad he had his mask on. He was probably as red as his suit right now, “Why are you here? How do you even know where I live?” He internally began to panic. What if Deadpool had this information all about him?

“I followed you. Hope you don’t mind.” Peter could almost see Deadpool’s wide smile under that mask, “And I missed you, Spidey! Didn’t you miss me? I’m sure you did. You’re just playing hard to get, I know it.”

“Whatever. I’m exhausted and I don’t know if I can even entertain you.” Peter yawned.

“You’re entertaining me right now.”   
“You still didn’t answer my question. Why are you here?” Peter repeated.   
“I just said I missed you! And I saw you swinging so I can’t help but follow.” Deadpool shrugged. He slipped off his katanas and undid his belt. He then slipped his boots and Hello Kitty socks off.

Peter stifled a laugh, “Nice choice of socks.”

“Do I look fabulous?” Deadpool wiggled his eyebrows, “Can I stay here for the night? I’d probably be too lazy to walk myself back to my apartment.”

Peter contemplated for a long while. Deadpool then raised his hands, “Not gonna do anything, I promise! I’ve committed far too many sins, whatever, but I wouldn’t ever sexually harass anyone!”

That settled Peter, just a little bit. He watched as Deadpool got interested on the things and pictures tacked on the wall. Peter gasped in alarm and he shot a coating of web over Deadpool’s whole face.

“Wow, thanks, Spidey.” Deadpool muttered.

[He probably thought our mask was haunting as well.]

(Shut up.)

“That’s confidential. Very, sorry. I’ll let you sleep in my spare room.” Peter rushed. He swung his door open and shoved Deadpool to his livingroom. He took care of his little puzzle on the wall, making sure they’re covered up pretty well for when Deadpool gets a little bit handsy and curious. He changed out of his bottoms but left his mask on. He walked into the livingroom to find Deadpool on the couch, his feet on the coffee table and the tv on.

“Getting comfortable?” Peter stepped over his legs and sat down beside him.

Deadpool yawned, stretching his arms, and did a classic move of putting one arm around Peter’s shoulders, “Now I am.”

Peter reached into his side, near his armpit, and pinched at the skin. Deadpool snapped his arm back into place as he cupped the area, “Jesus, Spidey! Usually, I liked being pinched but—“

“Why are you here again?” Peter huffed and webbed the remote control. He flipped the channel and settled for the news.

Deadpool groaned, “Booriiiing.” And he tried to snatch the remote from Peter’s grip.

“You’re in my apartment so shush.” Peter ordered, “I don’t even know why I’m letting you in here.”

“Because duh, you miss me way more than I miss you.” Deadpool wrapped both his large, bulky arms around Peter’s arm and hugged it, “Don’t try to deny it, baby boy!”

Peter, who was about to shake him off  and kick him in the gut, froze at the sound of the nickname. His eyes were wide under his mask, his whole body rigid. Deadpool sensed it, and he pulled back, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

[Why is he not slapping us? Or webbing us on the ceiling?]

(Oh my god, oh my god, what did we do?!)

“Spidey-babe?”

Peter closed his eyes. He felt the emotions trying to rush to him and he clenched his fists. He took deep breaths before he spoke again, “Deadpool, just... please go.”

“What did I do?”

“Just go, please.” Peter looked at him. He wished Deadpool could see the plea in his eyes.

He seemed to know it was a serious case, and Deadpool nodded slowly and stood up, “Alright, I’m... I’m sorry.” He went to Peter’s room. He didn’t come back out. As soon as Peter went to follow him, he saw his weapons and boots gone and his window open. Peter slammed it close and he ripped his mask off and launched it at the wall by his bed. He let his hands cover his face in shame.

Fuck, what was happening to him? He met Deadpool and hung out with him once and suddenly he was forgetting all about Wade? Fuck, he was unbelievable. He loved Wade and he would stop at nothing to get him back.

//

[Your fault! You’re such a clingy mess!]

(We didn’t do anything wrong. Old sport here was already being careful.)

[Yeah, careful. More like desperate for attention! What, we don’t see Peter so we find someone else’s attention?]

(It’s not like that. Just be glad we have company.)

[We even called him ‘baby boy’! Unbelievable.]

Wade was back in his apartment and he was laying in his bed, staring at the ceiling as the boxes fought over Spiderman and Peter. He knew it would always be Peter, always, but it was hard not to notice Spiderman when they were so fucking similar in almost every way. And now he accidentally called him ‘baby boy’, which, by the way, was the nickname exclusively for only a Peter Benjamin Parker. Wade basically cheated on him.

[It’s not cheating. You haven’t seen him for a long time and you deserve attention. It’s normal.]

Well, at least a part of his brain was making sense.

//

Both of them were idiotic enough to avoid each other. Peter hung around in his usual spots, looking around for crimes or emergencies or Wade. Wade was doing missions after missions, pouring out his frustration over blood and murder. It wasn’t a good sign, but it was a good distraction. He needed to push his pussy feelings aside sometimes.   
They saw each other a few times. Peter would see Deadpool and Wade would see Spiderman but they didn’t approach each other.

For Wade, he knew he freaked Spiderman out as well as himself. That ‘baby boy’ comment got to him terribly. Such short words with long meanings. He couldn’t get over the fact that he called Spiderman that. That was too personal for him. Although, he didn’t really know why Spiderman would react like that all of a sudden. He just pushed Wade away, so Wade made sure he really was away from the hero.

For Peter, he panicked. He was ashamed of himself for getting distracted. He couldn’t let go of Wade that easy. Now that Deadpool was avoiding and ignoring him as well, he was sure he offended the bulky man. They had friendship, and Peter ruined it.

[Just get into your goddamn suit and talk to him, pussy.]

(Spidey’s gotta be looking for you.)

[Is Peter looking, too?]

(We haven’t seen him for a long while. Besides, even if we don’t, it doesn’t mean he’s looking for us.)

[Bitch, that stung.]

Wade looked up at the building Spidey was at. He was perched on the edge, as usual. Wade sometimes go to the verge of heart attack when Spidey was too far off, even if he knew the spider would have saved himself even at the last second. Wade wasn’t in his suit. He was in his usual civillian clothing. Earlier, he went to the Daily Bugle building and waited outside by the alley. It was Peter’s working hours but Wade didn’t see him go out or come in.

Wade began to walk away, head down. His gaze was trained to the concrete ground that he didn’t see a drunken group of men pass by him. One purposely bumped into him and Wade shut his eyes and counted to ten. He really wasn’t in the mood,

“Watch your step, big guy.” The man spat on Wade’s shoes.

[Bitch.]

Wade turned around and hit a strong blow on the man’s jaw. They all heard a cracking sound. The man, cupping his jaw, lunged at Wade and Wade neatly dodged it, grabbing the man’s arm from behind and bringing it down to his knee. It cracks at the elbow. The man cried out, dropping to his knees. Wade’s hoodie have been removed from his head from the work, and the other men stepped back upon seeing his scarred face.

Wade was about to leave, when suddenly Spiderman was landing in front of them, “Fine gentlemen, do we have a problem here?”

Wade quickly tugged his hoodie on his bald head once again. He turned around and walked away, his steps much quicker.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed! Comment your thoughts below x


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think he’s a good person, if you think he’s doing a good job at accompanying you.” She paused, “Are you sure that’s the only thing you’re worried about?”
> 
> “No.” Peter groaned in frustration, “Every time I come home from being with this guy, I see loads of pictures of Wade and I feel like.. like I’m betraying him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter for yall. Hope you enjoy!

**Chapter Five: Lots of Pining**

“You know, it’d get quite tricky for me to actually kill the target in a location like that, especially if he’s a wanted criminal.” Wade complained on the phone. This douche just told him to dispatch this very famous robber who fucked up his sister.

“And why’s that, Mr. Pool?” Wade didn’t know why locals called him ‘Mr. Pool’ as if it could prove they have respect for him. It sounded ridiculous and 2) Pool is not his last name, nor Dead was his first.

“Spiderman gets in the way.” Wade informed, “He’s everywhere. Didn’t get to complete two missions already because of him.” Well, actually, only one with that fat goon in the alley.

“I’ll up my pay if you manage to dispatch him, anyway.” The man hung up. Wade cursed. He really didn’t need the money, but he already accepted. If he didn’t do the job, he might end up on his bed with his gut spilled on the floor. His customers could be quite vicious.

He got into his suit, and filled his pouches with his ammo bag.

[Don’t forget the spare change!]

(And your lunch box!)

Wade decided to come out at the dead of the night where barely any person walked on the streets. New York had become probably one of the dangerous cities in the world mostly because of the villains going after Spiderman. Wade was impressed though, Spiderman kept his identity a real top secret.

He had been told that this robber was also shipping drugs, and that on a particular day on a week, he’d be off to this building to grab the supplies. That meant Wade would also kill a whole bunch of people who were definitely not even related to his target. Peter must’ve brainwashed him at some point in their relationship, because he’d get these crazy thoughts about actually feeling guilty whenever he saw dead bodies caused by him. He could almost see Peter with his arms crossed and scolding him to death.

The small building looked abandoned from the outside, but as Wade waited in the corner, he’d see people come and go. He looked at the picture his client had sent him, taking note of the mole by his right eye and the crooked teeth. Wade ripped the picture into pieces and went to work.

It was quite tricky. The building had confusing halls which had too many doors and it was almost occupied with how many guards. He killed them all but he didn’t get too messy. He just wanted the job done as fast he could. Wade didn’t waste any time when he saw his target. He was talking to who Wade thought was the boss. He attacked the boss first, and when his target was about to run away, Wade swept his feet from where he was wrestling with the boss on the floor, tripping the man. As the target tripped, Wade placed his knife upright, the bottom of the handle firm on the floor. The man’s head was stabbed from it, effectively killing him. The boss still struggled on Wade’s grip around his neck so Wade tightened it even more until the man was losing his breath.

“Ugh, disgusting.” Wade got up, wiping some parts of his suit with a random shirt he found hanging on a chair. He flipped the man over, his knife still stabbed in the middle of his face. Wade placed a foot on his chest and yanked out the knife. He took several pictures of the man before sending them to his client.

Wade walked his way home, too lazy to call a cab and to wait for it. Besides, as he exited out on the back, he heard sirens on the front. He finished at the right time and he was thankful. Spiderman probably came with them. It was almost tempting to just stop there and wait for Spiderman to pass by or something so he could follow him and pester him even more. He got really amused whenever the hero would huff and ignore him, obviously annoyed at his presence.

Although, there was a part of him which really didn’t want that anymore. He wanted Peter and he didn’t want himself to get attached to Spiderman. That was his only problem. Wade arrived at his apartment dirty and exhausted. He slipped his boots off and dropped all his weapons to the floor. He stripped from his suit to take a really hot shower. Sometimes, he was totally convinced that heat would possibly burn off all his scars.

[Obviously doesn’t work. Like your mind.]

(That Francis guy really did it.)

His suit was then thrown to the laundry and then to drier, where it was left when Wade accidentally fell asleep sprawled on his couch, Chinese dinner unfinished on the floor.

//

Peter always had someone in mind whenever he witnessed a murder in New York city. Yes, Deadpool. He knew it was basically accusation but it was his instinct. He got a good spot where he could see what was inside the building and at the same time remain unspotted by the authorities. The people there were all murdered, no trace of anything from the suspect left to investigate. Peter almost threw up in his mouth at the sight. He left before he could.

It was a few days since his last encounter with Deadpool. He wanted to cut it off, really, but he was nothing to Deadpool and Deadpool was nothing to him. Alright, probably an acquaintance but surely Deadpool wouldn’t think of him like that. Who was he to scold the merc about his usual doings?

After his patrol, Peter went back to his apartment. He changed out of his suit and into much comfortable clothes. He hopped into his office chair and it spun until he was in front of his masterpiece on the wall. He had yet to check funeral records about Wade, and God, he was going insane. A year into Wade’s disappearance and Peter had searched almost checked every fucking cemetery in New York and even a few in Canada to find Wade’s name. He was relieved and at the same time not when he was unable to find Wade’s name. He was relieved because Wade could be possibly alive. He wasn’t relieved because Wade could be somewhere around the fucking world with no one protecting him, with Peter not there beside him.

All these thoughts had Peter quite teary-eyed, so he wheeled himself away from the wall and into his desk. Soon enough, he was bored and unable to sleep. It was almost 2am and all he could do was twist around in his bed but only manage to mess up his sheets. His mind was filled with so much thoughts his brain refused to shut down. Goddamnit.   
He really wanted to talk to Deadpool.

“Peter, what’s wrong? It’s 2 am, dear.” Aunt May sleepily said on the other line.

“Sorry, Aunt May. Couldn’t sleep.” Peter bit down on his nails, “I’m just... my mind is like.. really loud right now.”

“What is it, Peter?” Her voice was soft and Peter almost calmed down completely.

“I’ve... I’ve been hanging out.” He started, “...with this guy for a few days now, like.. a week and a few days.”

“Yes, and?” She asked, but then Peter could sense that she really had woken up as she realized, “Oh, Peter, you’re scared, aren’t you?”

“Probably. Maybe, yeah.” Peter tugged his knees to his chest, “I mean, I’ve only known the guy for a really short time but he’s a really great company but then something happened and I freaked out and now we’re not talking to each other because he thinks I’m a freak.”

“Did he say that, darling?”

“Well... n-no, but I’m convinced that he thinks that.”

“I think he’s a good person, if you think he’s doing a good job at accompanying you.” She paused, “Are you sure that’s the only thing you’re worried about?”

“No.” Peter groaned in frustration, “Every time I come home from being with this guy, I see loads of pictures of Wade and I feel like.. like I’m betraying him.”

“Peter, you have been miserable without Wade for a long time now. Wade loved you. He’d appreciate it if you let this guy make you happy.” Aunt May soothed, “I mean, Wade can get really protective if he wanted to but he wants you to be happy. We all know that.”

Peter took deep breaths, “Thanks, Aunt May. I really needed that.”

“And that guy friend you’re talking about, you should really talk to him, sort things out.” Peter could almost hear the smile in her voice, “It’ll be fine sooner than you think.”

“Hopefully.” Peter sighed, running a hand through his messy hair, “Okay, Aunt May, I’ll let you sleep. I’m sorry for disturbing you.”

“It’s alright, Peter. I missed talking to you. Now, I best be going to sleep.” She yawned, “Visit me when you’re available, okay?”

“Of course. Okay, bye, love you.” Peter hung up, tossing his phone to his bed. He landed on his bed, his arms stretched. He always felt better after talking to Aunt May. When Wade disappeared, he spent most of the day bawling his eyes out at every throw pillow she owned while she rubbed his back repeatedly.

Peter spent the rest of his night gazing out his window, listening to some music on his phone. The next day, of course, Peter was groggier than usual. He did his job lazily and he didn’t even complain when Jameson complained about his pictures. He slipped into his suit and went on patrol.

He stumbled as he landed on one of the buildings. He sighed and sat down, stretching his legs out as he rolled his neck from side to side. He wanted to take a nap, even if he didn’t have anything to support his back and would wake up to a terrible back pain, but he didn’t want to miss any trouble. Instead, he sat down by the edge, letting his legs dangle. He was very sloppy today and he felt extra weak: it wasn’t a good sign at all. He had a healing factor, sure, but it was almost as normal as any other person’s. He coughed into his hand.

He sat there for hours. He must’ve picked a bad spot because there was no sign of trouble anywhere. God, he was bored. He stood himself to his feet before he let himself fall forward, webbing himself quickly. He swung and swung towards the direction of Deadpool’s apartment. He remembered the directions pretty quickly even though that day he was practically throwing up inside his mouth.

Standing outside the apartment, he began to use the steal staircase attached to the building outside. He webbed himself higher and higher until he reached Deadpool’s window, peering inside. It was messy, and there were guns lying in the corner, so that was his clue. He pushed the window up, climbing in.

He searched the whole apartment quietly, his legs shaking weakly as he took every step. The apartment was empty, Peter concluded, and he figured Deadpool was out for a job. He was about to leave, planning to come back probably a few days later, but when he stepped back inside Deadpool’s room, his knees buckled and he fell to the floor.

//

“I don’t die! I don’t why that hasn’t crossed your mind yet.” Wade swung his katanas in different directions as relentless bullets fired at him. He was stabbed already three or four times in the back and they still got that look appearing on their faces. As he dodged the bullets with his katanas, he made sure to bounce them back. Before he knew it, everyone was dead.

“You don’t mess with this.” Wade gestured to his whole physique, posing sexily—

[Gasp. Miss writer!]

(Can’t blame her. Have you seen this bodacious build? Yeah, I know.)

\--- before he blew on the blades of his katanas. He sheathed them again before dusting his shoulders and hands. He left the place after taking a picture and sending it to the client. He would get his payment tomorrow or anytime he could come by. Wade whistled as he made his way back to his apartment, planning to just sit there and jerk the day away.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Wade mutters to himself as he climbed up the stairs, the metal creaking under his large weight.

[Hey, I have you know this is pure muscle.]

(Pure, bulky, meat right there.)

As he opened his window, he slipped off his mask, before he was stumbling back and slipping it on again quickly. Spiderman was asleep on his floor, which was odd because the bed was right there. What’s even odder was the fact that Spiderman was actually here in his apartment to begin with. Dropping all his weapons strapped to him, Wade kneeled beside Spiderman’s head then bent down. He was breathing, which Wade was thankful for.

“What am I going to do with you?” Wade hooked an arm under Spiderman’s knees and another one on his upper back. He placed him easily on the bed, fluffing the pillows just for him to get comfortable.

“Huh.” Wade said to himself.

[What. A. Surprise.]

(Girl, look at the body. Ah.)

[Come on, big man, walk away. Make sure this boy has a proper breakfast in bed.]

(Actually it’s more like a sundown-early-dinner/afternoon-late-snack, if you ask me.)

“I like what you think, Whitey. For you, Yellow, you’re fucked up.” Wade walked out of the room. He went into his kitchen to start something with the ingredients he had in his fridge. Luckily, he went to the groceries a few days ago but ate nothing but fast food. He knew how to cook, he was like Gordon Ramsay but he was too lazy to actually start cooking.   
He didn’t know why he would cook up for someone, but Spidey seemed in a very bad shape with the way he was sweating heavily and panting in his sleep. With his everyday patrols during midnight, he was sure the boy could possibly be sick.

He scrambled some eggs, fried up bacon and toasted a few bread. He pat himself at the back, feeling proud of himself. After grabbing a water bottle from his fridge, he carried the plate and the bottle to his room. He didn’t know how long Spiderman was down on the floor, but hopefully his sleep was enough because as soon as Wade entered the room, Spiderman was getting ready to leave.

Wade made a sound, “I just cooked half of my fridge so I am not letting you leave, webhead.” He almost swallowed down the nicknames, but there were too irresistible.

“I’m sorry.” Spiderman spoke, removing one leg from where it was swung through the window, “I planned to talk to you but I ended up sleeping on the floor.”

Wade let the plate down on his nightstand. His sheets were wet with Spiderman’s sweat, “Do you want to uh... change clothes? You’re like practically bathing in your sweat.”

“I’m okay.” Spiderman waved a hand, “Didn’t bring my bag.”

Wade slowly nodded, biting his tongue from  offering Spiderman at least one of his shirts. Instead he said, “Well, nevermind that. I went all Chef Deadpool to make you a meal. Figured you’d need at least something to eat to boost you up. I can practically see your exhaustion, Spidey! You’re not taking care of yourself!”

“I am.” Spiderman shrugs, taking slow steps until he was across Wade with the bed between them, “Just didn’t have the time, and I didn’t get to sleep well.”

“Well, now obviously you just had the best slumber in your entire life. Dig in!” Wade offered, “It will blow your mind stronger than you blew mine. But seriously, you’ll like it. It’ll probably be the best breakfast you’d ever taste.”

Spiderman stared at him before chuckling, “Alright, if you insist.”

Wade watched as Spiderman rolled his mask to his mouth, hesitating before rolling it up higher until his nose. Wade urged him on. Spiderman took the first bite and he laughed as he nodded, “Yeah, yeah that definitely blows my mind. I didn’t know you could cook. Your Pizza de Plaza kinda made me think you can’t.”

“Well, I can’t depend on fast food and Mexicans forever.” Wade shrugged. He watched as Spiderman practically swallow the plate and laughed, “Woah, Spidey! What an appetite! I can kill a whole bear for you and cook it myself.”

Spiderman shook his head disapprovingly, wiping his mouth with a fist, “No bear killing.”

“No, really, when did you last eat a proper meal?” Wade asked, genuinely curious, “Because muscles generally signifies strength but obviously you’re not that... strong.” At Spiderman’s glare, Wade added, “... at the moment.”

“I’m busy at patrolling.” He simply answered.

“Then eat while patrolling. I do it all the time while I’m on a mission!” Wade suggested, “You need to take care of yourself, too, because if not, you can’t take care of the city. Gosh, Spidey, I thought you were smart.”   
Spiderman huffed out a laugh, “It slips off my mind.”

“Who on earth would forget about the feeling of being hungry and tired? When I’m hungry, I don’t care if I’m in the middle of a job or have a dozen swords pierced through me. I’ll march right up to the nearest place which has edible food.” Wade babbled. It was true, though.

Spiderman raised his fork, “Thanks for the tip.” Soon, he was finished with his meal, not a single bite left on the plate. Wade grinned in triumph before he took the plate, walking out of the room and into the kitchen. Spiderman followed him.

[I think we have him hooked.]

(Damn right he is.)

“Spidey, you haven’t drank anything.” Wade forgot, and he tossed the bottle behind his shoulder. Spiderman caught it neatly. He drank it all in one go before he rolled down his mask. Wade simply tossed the dishes to the sink.

“Now you’re done with your sleeping and eating, thank you for visiting Deadpool’s hotel.”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep in here, and that’s not really my intention. You just gave me choices and I accepted them.” Spiderman defended, “And I uh... I wanted to apologize.”

Wade settled into the livingroom, switching on the tv, “What for, webhead?”

“Freaking out. You know, our last encounter days ago.” Spiderman said quietly, looking down on his hands.

Wade thought it was completely adorable, and he wasn’t shy to voice it out, “Spidey, first off, stop doing that.”

“What..?” Spiderman lifted his head.

“That!” Wade gestured to him, “That shy.. thing! I might have a cardiac arrest right here from how adorable you are!”

Spiderman stared at him, “... thanks?”

“Yeah, and second off, you don’t need to apologize for that.” Wade waved a hand, “We all have our crazy moments. I do, too! Like, all the time—

[Is that an indirect to us?]

(Wade loves us.)

\---so don’t worry ‘bout it.”

“Yeah, but we kinda avoided each other after that.”

“That we did. Sorry, Spidey.” Wade shrugged, “I had a few moments thinking myself, too.”

“I guess... we’re all right, then?” Spiderman asked.

“When are we not, Spidey-babe?” Wade grinned.

//

“What do you do on your jobs?” Spiderman asked, shoving a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. Spiderman and Wade had made this plan; Spiderman would go to the nearest convenient store to buy two tubs of ice cream and some chips and beer, and Wade would actually clean up around his apartment while the hero did that. When Spiderman arrived, Wade’s pizza palace was gone. It wasn’t spotless, but it was clean enough.

“It’s a not pleasant answer for a patriotic hero to hear.” Wade dodged the question, “Have you noticed how cool we are, Spidey? You’re a hero, a completely charming, amazing hero while I’m a fabulous, insane antihero yet you and I get along pretty well!”

“I just tolerate you.” Spiderman teased, “You haven’t answered my question.”

“Insistent little thing.” Wade muttered, wiping his mouth with his hand, “You sure you wanna hear the answer? Your kind, considerate, thoughtful heart might fail on me. I don’t want that.”

Spiderman shrugged, stuffing his mouth full, “I kind of have the idea of what it is. I mean, I saw you using your weapons towards people twice.”

“I do things for money.” Wade answered vaguely, “Like... vile, immoral stuff. Stuff that heroes frown upon.”

Spiderman was smart, or the whole thing was just obvious, “You kill people for money.”

Wade shrugged, “Most of the time.”

“Ah.” Spiderman nodded slowly. Wade could tell he wanted to say something, but Wade didn’t want him to say something, as well.

Wade shifted the topic quickly, “How ‘bout you, Spidey? What do you do besides being Spiderman? Let me guess. You’re probably a supermodel for an underwear company. I wouldn’t doubt it!”

“I work.” Spiderman answered, “It’s not the best job in the world and I receive a low pay but I love doing it.”

“Hm.” Wade licked at his spoon, “’S why you got a teeny tiny apartment?”   
“At least it’s clean and sanitized.” Spiderman shot back playfully, “If you got so much money, why stay in an apartment like this? It’s almost as small as mine.”

“I’m a practical man.” Wade wiggled his eyebrows at Spiderman, “Living in a big house makes me feel lonely and like a loser.”

[But you are a loser.]

“I’d pay anything to have as much money as you.” Spiderman sighed, “I mean, I barely have anything for myself. I support a member of the family, too.”

“Aw, that’s tough, buddy.” Wade patted him on the shoulder, “Why not apply for another job? That supermodel thing would pull off just right for you. God, you’d be the hottest one out there. Even hotter than me! If I ever considered that model thing. I’d be too attractive I’d be banned from Canada. Oh and, a member of the family? What happened to the rest of the family?”

Spiderman laughed. They were talking about three different topics at once and it was getting confusing, “I’d probably be too lanky and awkward. You’re from Canada?”

“That I am.” Wade confirmed, “Lanky? Spideykins, you’re far from tall and thin. I mean, you’re muscle-y, like... Andrew Garfield muscle-y and that isn’t at all thin.”

Spiderman was looking at him before he was asking with a hint of a menacing tone, “I’m far from tall?”

“Have you seen me, webhead? I tower over you!” Wade laughed loudly, snorting, “Far from tall, I tell you. I should probably call you a ‘pixie’, since you’re small and you have magical powers!”

Spiderman tried shifting the topic,“Yeah, whatever. You’re like... mini-sized Hulk...?”

“That is actually a compliment and a curse at the same time.” Wade considered, flexing his arms “I don’t like the color green.”

[Ironic.]

(We’re a different character here shh.)

“No, no, like body-wise, build-wise.” Spiderman clarified and then he was smacking Wade so sudden that Wade gaped at him, clutching his arm to his chest. Spiderman paid no mind to it, “You’d be kinda surprised when you see Hulk in his normal self.”

“I think I’ve never seen him in that.” Wade shrugged. He’d seen the large green monster with the rest of the Avengers before, but he was never close with any of them. He voiced out hid thoughts, “I’ve seen the Avengers in all their superhero glory in their superhero landings and poses. I think I was hit with Captain Righteous’ shield once or twice. I broke my fucking ribcage from the hit.”

Spiderman seemed to be amused by that, “Serves you right. Steve can hit pretty hard.”

“Wait, you know them, right?” Wade smacked a heavy arm on Spiderman’s gut in surprise in wonder.

Spiderman coughed, punching Wade’s arm off as the man stifled a laugh, “Yeah. But, I  haven’t talked to them in a long time. The closest ones to me are Steve and Tony. They were like my temporary dads.”

“That’s so cool! But such a bummer. Ironman can be pretty fucking ruthless sometimes.”

Their conversation lasted for so long that both of them never really noticed the time. Well, Wade did, multiple times, but he preferred Spiderman not having to leave so soon. When Spiderman stood, though, Wade did an exaggerated impersonation of a cry, latching onto Spiderman’s leg, “Do not leave me, my wonderful lover!”

“I have to, you know. I have an apartment to tend to.” Spiderman shrugged, “And I have work tomorrow. Need to sleep so I won’t be able to crash in here yet again.”

“I won’t mind!” Wade said with glee, “It gets lonely in here sometimes.”

[It’s like you don’t even know us.]

(Traitor.)

“Well, next time, yeah?” Spiderman shook him off his leg with a laugh, “I owe you for cooking for me. Next time I’m gonna cook for you.”

“Do you even know how to cook?”

“Years of living alone, its a responsibility.” Spiderman placed a hand on his hips, “What d’ya say?”

“I’ll prepare the fire extinguisher.” Wade got slapped in the back of the head.

//

Deadpool was gone for three weeks.

Peter waited every day for the merc, on top of his usual building and even in his apartment. He stayed up every night hoping that the merc would swing by at least. Peter wanted to come over at his apartment, but he didn’t want to embarrass himself yet again. Deadpool was... nice. Peter had been surprised when he walked into that room with a plate full of breakfast and a bottle of water. Peter had just decided to leave and pretend nothing happened, but he was glad he was too sloe to move back then. He had seen another side of Deadpool, not only the confidence and the crazy side. Also the... domestic side, maybe?

He liked it.

Peter decided to give in and shove off his embarrassment by the third week. Fuck it, he thought. Third week and he finished his work and afternoon patrol to swing by Deadpool’s apartment. As usual, he slipped through the window. He smiled as he saw it unlocked. He carefully slipped through, planning to do a mini prank of scaring the merc. He tiptoed to the hallway, peeking around to view the livingroom.

Peter was the one who got surprised. Very.

Deadpool was lying on his dirty carpet, staining it even more with blood. Peter almost threw up his lunch at the sight. Deadpool’s head was turned to the side and a bone from his neck was jutting out. That alone was enough, but as Peter moved closer, he began to see more wounds and breaks clearer.

Deadpool’s forearm was obviously cut off, but it was connected to the rest of his arm. Peter knew it would reattach and the bones would mend together, but that would fucking hurt. He had numerous gunshots all over his torso. Peter had to wince at the one dangerously close to his crotch. His suit was torn in a few places, and his mask was too. It revealed the tiniest piece of skin, but it was all too bloody to clearly see.   
Peter edged closer. He ignored his twisting gut pretty well, though. Deadpool was clearly dead, but he’d be alive and kicking soon enough. Peter heard about him enough to actually know what his body could do. It was pretty sick, in a good way. Peter shuffled quietly to near the man even closer, but not too close. And then he straightened back to look around his apartment.

He then saw an old first aid kit somewhere in his bathroom. Obviously, it wasn’t needed much, but now it was. Inside there was this little thing which was the half of tweezers and scissors. Peter wasn’t entirely clueless to this. He got a bullet through him once in his life, so he wasn’t that rusty. He knelt beside Deadpool’s body. Surely, the tissues and the flesh around each bullet couldn’t exactly close around the bullet. That would be a great disturbance.

So Peter began to take out each and every one of the bullet from Deadpool’s torso. He was quite a bit stuck on the one just above his crotch. It was awkward. Peter then put the kit aside and sat beside Deadpool, facing him. He rested his elbow on his knee and his chin on his palm, gazing down at the merc.

He and Peter surely were friends then, right? They help each other and they had hung out a lot. That meant something. Peter didn’t feel so alone when he was with this large, crazy man. Peter didn’t trust him just yet. He couldn’t tell his whole backstory, but he hoped he had someone to tell it, too.

Peter had dazed for a few minutes, eyes closed, until he felt Deadpool’s arm, which was close to his leg, shift lightly. Peter watched as Deadpool raised it up, “Hey.”

Deadpool didn’t answer, he just moved his arm until it was near Peter’s face and then he pinched at Peter’s nose through his mask. Peter huffed out a laugh and shoved it away, blushing lightly under his mask. Okay.

“What a surprise, but uh... turn away just a second.” Deadpool requested, his head still painfully stuck to the side. Peter obliged, and when he did, heard a crack from behind him and winced.

“Ah, that’s always refreshing.” Peter looked back at him, seeing Deadpool sit up, “Spidey!” He said with so much glee, “I missed you!”

Peter smiled, “Yeah, yeah. I went on perfect timing, though.”

“Not so much.” Deadpool said. He stretched and bent his elbow to warm up the recovering bone, “Didn’t want you to see me like that. Did you take out the bullets for me?”

“I had nothing to do.” Peter shrugged.

Deadpool patted him in the head and pushed himself to his feet, “Thanks, Spidey. I owe you. I would’ve pulled myself open to get those bullets out with the flesh healing around it and all that. But now I really need a shower.”

“I was about to leave. I just wanted to see how you were.” Peter stood up, “I’m ‘bout to go on patrol again.”

“Geez, Spidey. Don’t you ever call in sick?” Deadpool shook his head pathetically, “You go on patrols every day ever afternoon and night. That should really shake some sense into the bitter cops. They should really owe you at least something. You’re basically doing 80% of their jobs, quite consistently.”

“Well, I have nothing better to do when I’m not Spiderman.” Peter appreciated the concern lacing the merc’s tone.

“Just take days off, cuddle with a pillow while watching shows or something. You deserve it.” Deadpool suggested. He walked past Peter to get to the bathroom.

“Yeah, thanks for that, Deadpool.” Peter called out, “But I’m still going on that patrol.”

“Your stubbornness will get you nowhere!”

 


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s been a long time since you last came here.” Weasel observed, “I thought you uh.. found somebody new or something like that. I mean, Wade’s a crazy guy. I don’t know why I’m friends with him.”
> 
> Peter arched an eyebrow, “Yeah, he is crazy but he’s also the love of my life.”

**Chapter Six: Now We’re Getting Somewhere**

Peter did have many enemies than he had in his own fingers. People were mad at him and sought revenge all the time. It didn’t really surprise him when he realized that he was set up. Now, he was in this abandoned building tied to a chair with these goons around the large, empty room.

“Okay, let me guess. I put most of you in jail? At least once?” He said. He was ignored. He continued to babble, “Well, sorry. You did violate some heavy rules. Like you are right now. The cops aren’t too happy with me basically stealing their job but they’d be here. We’re secretly pals during crimes. They just don’t know it.”

His nonsense talking earned him a punch in the gut and a large smack on the cheek. He groaned, “Shit.” He coughed, doubling over as far as the ties would allow him.

“Don’t get rough with him just yet, gentlemen.” A man walked into the room with three guards behind him, “We need him alive after Deadpool comes by, saving his damsel in distress.”

“How could you possibly think that Deadpool would actually come here?” Peter snorted. Actually, he did want Deadpool to come and save him, but that didn’t mean that he was a damsel in need to be saved.

The man stepped up in front of him and bent over so he was in eye level with Peter. The mastermind had black hair and this thick stubble. He also had a tattoo on his neck. He spoke, “I’ve seen you two getting cozy with each other. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t really be here right now.”

“Oh, so I’m like a bait.” Peter deadpanned.

“Quite. Deadpool owed me.  I’m guessing you’re aware of that.” The man circled him.

“Yeah, but you have no solid proof that he would come so enjoy waiting.” Peter strained against the ropes. It was tight against him and he could barely move. These men obviously feared of him escaping. Peter was almost bundled up with the ropes. He even had one around his neck, goddamnit.

A large thud was heard from the other side of the door. Peter had his hopes up. The man’s bodyguards approached the door warily, getting into this weird positions that wouldn’t really help them at all, really. The mastermind stayed behind Peter. Just then the door slammed open. Peter could easily see Deadpool’s large body from behind this corpse he used as a shield. The guards fired at the dead man multiple times, but Deadpool just raised a gun and fired. Peter couldn’t stop the instinct the dodge, just move his head down even though he knew Deadpool wouldn’t shoot him.

Peter then realized Deadpool just shot the man behind him, the mastermind. Peter wasn’t really focusing much, ears ringing from the rounds and rounds of shots and he almost gone deaf from it. He watched as Deadpool worked around the room; shooting them in the leg, punching their consciousness out, slamming their heads to walls.  
Deadpool wasn’t killing them.

Soon, the room was full of injured, unconscious, but definitely not dead, goons on the floor. Deadpool spun his guns on his forefinger before putting them back in their holsters, greeting Peter with glee, “Spideybabe!” But he was quick to cut all the ropes tying Peter down. He went for the neck first, and Peter took a deep breath.

“I’d want to know how the shit did you get in here, but I’d rather hear it when you’re not in danger, webhead.” Deadpool said, gripping Peter’s arms as he pulled him gently up to his feet.

Peter arched his back and stretched, “God, those ropes really did me.”

Deadpool snorted, “I have dozens inappropriate comments about those ropes.”

“Don’t tell me about it.” Spiderman then proceeded to kick a window open, “Come on. Cops are gonna be here soon.”

“Are you gonna let me ride Spidey-airlines?” Deadpool asked.

“Whatever. I can easily leave you here.” Deadpool latched onto Peter immediately, taking the chance of holding Spiderman with Spiderman letting him.

//

“My apartment’s that way.” Deadpool pointed, his statement more of a quick question when Peter turned to a sharp right.

“My apartment this time.” Peter informed, “Your apartment’s horrid. And disgusting.”

“Hey! It’s just because I don’t prefer cleaning it knowing I’ll get it messed up again.” Deadpool defended.

“Why can’t you just hire a cleaning lady or something?” Peter asked. He landed them on the metal staircase just by his window. He went in first, signalling for Deadpool to wait before shutting his window and blinds. He grabbed his large blanket and webbed the top hem to the ceiling, and the bottom hem to the floor. That way, it covered his detective stuff on his wall.

“Are you going to let me in or am I getting my hopes up?!” Peter laughed at Deadpool’s call. He let Deadpool in then.

“Don’t linger too long in here.” He grabbed Deadpool’s arm and dragged him to the hall. Once they’re out, Peter locked his room and let go of the merc.

“Okay, so...?” Deadpool settled on the couch. He slipped off his boots and Peter shook his head at the sight of his Captain America socks.

“I was a bait.” Peter said simply, sitting beside the merc. He tugged on knee to his chest and let his arm rest over it, “Those were the guys you messed up when you were gone for three weeks.”

“Yeah, they were. I didn’t get to do my job well. They didn’t take it lightly. You knew that, you were there.” Deadpool shrugged, and then he looked over Peter, “You alright?”

“Yeah.” Peter rubbed his cheek. That smack was enough to grow a bruise, “All I got was a slap and a punch to the gut.”

Deadpool’s frown could easily be seen through his mask, “Should’ve killed that douchebag.”

“Oh yeah.” Peter ignored Deadpool’s tone, “I didn’t see heads coming off earlier.”

“Surprise.” Deadpool said, and then he was rising up to walk into Peter’s kitchen, “You know your refrigerator could really use some uh... food.”  
“I haven’t gone to the groceries.” Peter called out.

“Have you even been eating, Spidey? We don’t want that incident back in my apartment to happen again.” And then Deadpool’s head was popping from the kitchen, “Not the me-cooking-for-you part, but the you-passing-out-in-my-bedroom-floor part. It was terrifying.”

Peter smiled, “I’ve been eating. Just takeouts, though.”

Deadpool wasn’t having it, “You still should buy some groceries.” He walked out of the kitchen with two bananas. He was already eating one and he tossed the other one to Peter, who caught it quickly.

“Sometimes I get jealous of your Spidey-sense.” Deadpool admitted. He sat back down next to Peter. Both of their masks are rolled to their noses, eating their bananas.

“Yeah, it’s quite cool.” Peter shrugged. He felt Deadpool staring at him, and Peter pursed his lips and moved up to turn the tv on.

Deadpool suddenly wondered out loud, “Spidey, we’re buddies, right?”

“Yeah?” Peter answered. Oh, he was sure of it. He was just confused as to why the merc would ask that, “Why?”

“I want to know at least something about you.” Deadpool said with excitement, clasping his hands together, “Like, how old are you? How’d you become Spiderman—“

“Uh..” Peter stammered, “You do know something about me.”

“Besides the fact that you’re not allergic to nuts.” Deadpool added.

“What—“ Peter frowned, not understanding before he scoffed, punching Deadpool in the arm, “Pervert.”

“It’s a fact, though. Ha.” Deadpool seemed proud of himself, “Please, Spidey? Just one teeny tiny detail about yourself?”

Peter looked at him, “You have to tell me something ‘bout you, too.”

“Sure. I mean, I should keep it simple. I don’t want to impress you too much.”

“Okay, sure, Deadpool.” Peter laughed, shaking his head. He opens to speak but his phone rings, shoved somewhere in his back. He webs it towards himself before walking down the hall and letting himself into Deadpool’s room, “Aunt May, why’d you call?”

“I’m making chicken alfredo tonight.” She said. Peter could almost taste the smell of it.

“Oh, yes, I’ll definitely come over.” Peter didn’t hesitate. He loved his aunt’s cooking.

“Good. You better be here before I even start cooking.” Aunt May laughed, “Now, I have to go. Bye Peter, be careful. I love you.”

“Yeah, I will. I love you, too.” Peter hangs up and walks back into the livingroom, where Deadpool has flung himself to the couch, completely occupying it.

“Thanks for the space.” Peter crossed his arms. He huffed before sitting on the floor, “This is my apartment, by the way. In case you’ve forgotten.”

“Yeah, sure.” Deadpool answers.

//

The next night, Peter dropped by Weasel’s bar again. He shooed off Deadpool, telling him that he had more important matters than Mario Kart and Mexican food. Much more important. Of course, the man pouted and clung to him like a baby. Peter only got a few deals out (“If you let me go, I’ll treat you to some nachos.”) before Deadpool was gleefully waving him goodbye and blowing him a kiss.

Now, Peter was regular Peter; jeans, dark shirt, Wade’s old brown hoodie which was way too big for him, his glasses, and his bag. It was quite chilly tonight and Peter huffed, tugging the sleeves more into his hand. He entered the bar, eyes scanning the place before he froze.

Deadpool was there.

He was on his suit and his everything and he was having a drink with Weasel. He had no idea they were friends.

Peter debated if he was going to get on with his plan, to ask for Wade or back off due to Deadpool’s presence. Well, it wasn’t like the merc knew who Peter was.. when he wasn’t Spiderman. Peter shrugged it off, walking closer to Weasel who’s, as usual, standing behind the bar.

“Weasel.” Peter acknowledged. He was standing at the end while the two was conversing on the other end. Peter cleared his throat, “Weasel.” He called out louder.

Both Deadpool and Weasel turned to him. They looked like a deer caught in headlights. Even Deadpool was surprised. Weasel glanced at Deadpool before he walked over, greeting stiffly, “Hey man. What brings you here?”

“You know what I’m always here for, Weasel.” Peter spoke lowly.

“Nope, no signs of him.” Weasel answered quickly.

Peter’s shoulders slumped, the way they did whenever he received the same answer over and over again. Weasel patted him, “Hey, it’s alright. Maybe he’s just... around the corner.”

“I hope.” Peter shrugged, “Just tell me when.”

“It’s been a long time since you last came here.” Weasel observed, “I thought you uh.. found somebody new or something like that. I mean, Wade’s a crazy guy. I don’t know why I’m friends with him.”

Peter arched an eyebrow, “Yeah, he is crazy but he’s also the love of my life.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, “I’ll come by sometime later.” As he turned, he risked a look towards Deadpool, who’s staring at his drink in concentration before he left.

//

“Dickhead, I told you he was looking for you!” Weasel hit Wade across the head, “God, you two are disgusting. I’m witnessing destiny right here and Wade Wilson’s a victim of it.”

Wade really isn’t stable right now. The first few times he saw Peter, it was just a bump and Wade really did a good job masking himself there, but then, seeing Peter Parker himself asking for him, looking for him. God, he just wanted to run over and wrap himself all over Peter. He missed him so goddamn much. It’s been one year and Peter hadn’t given up on him while Wade spent the longest time whining about how Peter didn’t love him anymore. He certainly heard their conversation even with the grunts and voices of these goons behind him. And yeah, he could almost cut his heart off to see if it melted when Peter referred to him as the love of his life.

“Hello? Earth to Wade.” Weasel slapped Wade on the cheek lightly before crossing his arms, “Fuck you two, pinning me between your horrible, cliche love story--”

[Is old sport here traumatized or something? Helloooo. Wade Wilson? You have a fanfiction to act to, as well 5,423 others, remember?]

(5,423 better, more accurate ones, no doubt.)

[No offense, Ms. Writer.]

(Let’s just get this over with.)

“—so I’m guessing you can finally grow a pair of nuts, even a fucking tree of them, and talk to Peter?” Weasel finished his rants, “Because, honestly, though, you’re miserable.”

Wade’s not. God, he’s not. Peter deserves so much better and he just realized now. Peter didn’t need him yet Peter wanted him. Maybe Wade’s insanity had Peter insane, too. Peter deserved rich men with rich morals and blonde hair. Besides, he wasn’t even completely swallowed by depression. Spidey’s kind of pulling him out of it.

[So you’re saying Spidey would actually like you?]

(Hey, stop being a bully.)

Wade ignored his crazy boxes. He sighed and looked up at his friend, “Nuts don’t grow in trees.” He stood up and left. He didn’t know where to go. He didn’t want to be back in his apartment and eat more ice cream and dwell on it.

[Just ring up Blind Al and you should be fine.]

(Good. You said something nice for once. You should try it more. Maybe you’ll be a helping hand than an asshole or a dickhead.)

“You’re here in an awful time.” Al swung the door open, “I’m guessing you’re in a tux and getting married to your boy tomorrow.”

“Yeah, actually.” Wade entered, slipping off his boots and weapons, “If I was in a dream, then that’s probably what’s happening right now.”

[Ha. Pathetic.]

(Watch the mouth or we won’t be invited.)

“Why are you here?” Al sat on her usual chair. Wade actually missed being in this old shitty house.

“Uh... I wanted to visit you.” Wade put his feet up on the coffee table. It creaked under the weight.

“Oh really.”

“No, not really.” Wade shook his head, “But I’m here now, so...”

“What? Do you expect me to spit out advices in your inexistent relationship?”

“Kind of, yes.” Wade told her what happened, and he felt ease afterwards. She just kind of stared there but he knew she was listening.  
Eventually, she spoke, “Then why don’t you grow a pair and show up to him?”

“Ha, someone already told me that so that is invalid.” Wade deadpanned, “You know it’s difficult to talk to him, right? Not when—“

“You look like piles of brain mush molded into a human being?” Al supplied, tone as serious as ever, “Even if it were that way, which I can imagine from your past whines and complains, you’re still not really as smart as you think.”

[Snort. Classic.]

(Next joke, please.)

[It’s not a joke. It’s quite true.]

Wade rolled his eyes. He ripped his mask off his head, turned it inside out and waved it around and around, trying to air it out, “That, and  the fact that I’m back to doing jobs he didn’t even like in the first place. If he finds out I’m alive , he’d find out about those things as well. Find out or not, he won’t want me back. I mean, why does he even like me?”

“Do you love him?”

[Oh God. Ms. Writer, I will smack you silly if you don’t put the tag ‘Cliche’ at least a dozen times.]

Wade rested his head back on the couch, “Why’d you think I go all pussy when he’s around me? Of course I do.”

(Whitey, yeah, I’d have to agree with you on that one.)

“Isn’t that enough?” Al asked, “Because I think it is for him.”

“We’re getting too deep in here, Al. I suggest you go back to sleep.” Wade dismissed. He didn’t want this conversation anymore.

Al stood up, thankfully letting him. As she walked slowly, she said, “My sleep’s been real good since you left.”

Wade looked back, “Is that sarcastic?”

“Sometimes.” Yeah, that’s why he liked Al.

[They’re both fucked up.]

(We love Blind Al.)

//

“Peter, I don’t want you to shut yourself down from those things.” Aunt May spoke gently as she stirred the pasta. Peter just got in after his visit at Weasel’s bar. He didn’t even have to knock before he entered, surprising his aunt with a hug. He missed Aunt May.

“I..” Peter forced out a laugh, shaking his head. He jumped as the oil splattered onto his skin whenever he flipped the meatballs in the pan. He nervously laughed again, glancing back at his aunt whose watching him fondly, “I’m not... Aunt May, I’m not.”

“Are you sure?” No, not really, “Because you’re not going to be so worried about dating a new man if you’re not.”

“Aunt—“ Peter coughed in surprise, “I didn’t mention anything about dating!” He really didn’t. That would be cheating on Wade and he couldn’t forgive himself. The thing he and Deadpool had... they were just friends. The merc probably don’t even look at him that way.

“Well, it’s better to be early.” Aunt May shrugged, “You’re burning my meatballs.”

“Sorry.” Peter carefully took them out of the pan and into a plate. He set the table as Aunt May served the dishes. Peter inhaled deeply, smelling the aroma of the food, “God, I haven’t had a proper meal in—“ Peter warily looked over.

Aunt May was crossing her arms, “Excuse me?”

“In... here? For a long time?” Peter tried with a guilty grin. His stomach growled.

Aunt May scolded, “I want you to eat all of what I put in your plate tonight and you will take leftovers, young man! Now that you’ve mentioned, you do look quite pale and weak.”

“Aunt May, I am eating well.” Peter promised. Those tacos were good.  
“Yeah, tell that to your small arms.” Aunt May began to scoop lots of pasta and into Peter’s plate.

“Small—Aunt May, that’s fine.” Peter tried to bat her hands away but she managed to get more spoonfuls before she was done.

“There, eat.” She insisted before sitting down herself.

“I am offended you called my arms small.” Peter grasped his bicep. He was pretty sure it was toned enough.

“I wouldn’t if I knew you were eating well.” Aunt May insisted, “Wade wouldn’t like that.”

Peter rolled his eyes, “I don’t want any reminders of him right now, Aunt May.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heey i hope you guys liked this update


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Webhead, it’s alright. Well, it’s really not because that would really hurt especially he’s ‘crazy special’. I left my uh.. partner when I decided to become a dumb dick.” Wade pursed his lips, “I see that man often. He’s alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I injured myself in school yesterday. I tripped on the stairs on the way down and rolled my ankle but luckily i didn't fall down or anything. Its kind of still swollen rn.

**Chapter Seven: Holy Shit**

  
It was a few days later when Spiderman and Deadpool hung out once again. Both were busy with their own lives; Wade was accepting jobs more than necessary and Peter was more intent in his job and finding another one. He needed a boost in his income, pretty badly.

  
“You climb the tallest buildings like you don’t want me to find you. I’m offended, Spideybabe.” Wade popped up beside Spiderman. Spiderman looked at him. The merc raised his eyebrows, “What? Is there something on my face?”

  
[Yeah, and also every part of your body.]

  
( That’s weak, that’s weak.)

  
“How are you this past few days?” Spiderman asked casually in a straight tone.

  
“Woah, webhead.” Wade placed a palm on his forehead only to get pushed away, “You’re so quiet today! Well, I’m not saying you’re loud the other days. I guess we’ll have to try it out.”

  
[Dear God.]

  
(I have about twelve inappropriate comments I want to say right now.)

  
“Just... just tired.” Spiderman shrugged.

  
“What? Is it your man-period? I didn’t know men get those, but apparently you do. Are you secretly a woman under that voice and lack of tatas?” Wade squeezed air into his hands.

  
[Chubby chest cheeks.]

  
(Chesticles.)

  
[Jubblies]

  
[Chest-nuts]

  
(Twin Towers.)

  
[The A-Team. Size classified.]

  
(Oh my God.)

  
“Uh..” Spiderman rested his cheek on his palm, “No.”

  
“Are you really okay, Shpidey-Widey?”

  
“What did you call me?” Spiderman said between giggles.

  
[He giggles.]

  
(Isn’t that the absolute most cutest adorablest thing ever?)

  
Spiderman sighed and shook his head, “Your guess is horrid.”

  
“Then tell me!” Wade leaned forward to look at him.

  
“I just miss someone, terribly.” Spiderman admitted, shrugging, “No big deal.”

  
“Ah. I know that feeling.” Wade kept his tone enthusiastic as ever, “The kind that makes you just... wish something didn’t happen to see if it would’ve gone differently.”

  
[Still enthusiastic?]

  
(How about progressively crumbling into ash of emotions?)

  
“Sort of.” Spiderman stuttered just a bit.

  
“Yeah, it is what it is.” Wade shrugged, clasping his hands on his knee, “He wouldn’t have wanted this guy here either way.”

  
[Level 9999 low self-esteem.]

  
(You’re in hell already if you’re that low.)

  
“I never thought you’d like guys, as well.” Spiderman spoke.

  
“I like everyone.” Wade informed, then waved a hand, “Yeah, but whatever. I loved this guy, he loved me back, shit broke loose like it always does, yada-yada.”

  
“Huh.” Spiderman exhaled. Wade knew he was curious about it and wanted to ask, “I guess we’re in the same shit.”

  
“Shit happens.” Wade shrugged casually as if it didn’t matter but it did. Hugely. It still affected him and he hoped that he just died in Peter’s arms instead of being immortal but not being able to be with him at all.

  
[What’s with the overuse of the word ‘shit’, anyway?]

  
(... Don’t want to comment bout that.)

  
[I mean, look at this idiot, moping around, thinking there was no other way when he can just walk right up to Science guy right there.]

  
(He can’t. I thought that was clear for you.)

  
[What a pussy. What a coward.]

  
“Yeah, I am a coward.” Wade muttered, looking down at the edge. He wanted to jump, like really. There were times like those when he would get awfully, pathetically depressed that he’d shoot himself in the head or fall off a building or burn himself, attempting to rub off the scars even if he was tired of getting the exact same result.

  
“I beg to differ.” Spiderman went along with it, ignoring the randomness of it. Maybe that’s what Wade liked about this hero; he would ignore his insanity an just go along with it. People often saw him as a threat to anything. Wade liked that, obviously, but sometimes it just wasn’t okay.

  
“That was me...” Wade slowly said, “Being crazy, like the usual. Gosh, Spidey, it’s like you don’t know me.”

  
“I really don’t.” Spiderman said. He tugged one knee to his chest and hugged it, turning his head towards Wade as he rested his cheek against his knee.

  
“Oh, trust me. My life isn’t that interesting to be honest.” Wade wiped a hand under his nose, scoffing, “Not even all adventurous and shit.”

  
[They made a movie about you.]

  
(Shh, no movie.)

  
“I still want to know.” Spiderman said. He sounded like he was in daze or something.

  
“I assure you, Spidey. You’ll be wasting your ears listening to my story.”Wade forcefully laughed, “You’ve got people to save! Don’t waste it on boring ol’ me!”

  
[Alright, you’re making this worse. Just stop.]

  
(Stop embarrassing us, please.)

  
“Are you always like that?” The hero asked.

  
Wade shot him a smoulder., “Like what? Like I wake every morning fresh and clean? Like I smell all flowery and nice? Ridiculously handsome and have a sex appeal higher than Wiz Khalifa?”

  
Spiderman huffed out a laugh, “That’s not what I meant.” Then he turned serious, “Are you always like that? Constantly covering up everything?”

  
“Well, you’re constantly covered, too.” Wade gripped Spiderman’s neckline and snapped it back to his skin. Spiderman smacked his hands away.

  
“You’re stalling.” The hero observed, “And being literal.”

  
“And you’re being whiny.” Wade fired back playfully, “Why the sudden interest?”

“Just because.” Spiderman answered.

  
“Oh no. I need a better reason than that, my arachnerd. Nuh-uh.” Wade waved a sassy finger, “My stories cost more than a shitty reason, which really a reason at all.”

  
“I’ll give you a penny!” Spiderman said in a too-enthusiastic tone.

  
“They cost more than that.” Wade shook his head.

  
“You have more money that you need.” Wade swore this conversation was a deja vu, but he shook his head and chose to ignore it.

  
“Is me simply wanting to get to know you not enough for a reason?”

  
“That gets me emotional, Spidey.” Wade wiped a fake tear, “I mean, I kinda have the idea that you’re into me and all, but still.”

  
“You are so full of yourself, aren’t you?” Spiderman laughed, punching Wade lightly on the shoulder, “Okay, I just... I’ve been wondering how you got your scars.” He said it so casually, not even

  
“Well, stop wondering because that’s not gonna get you anywhere.” Wade tried to shift the subject.

  
Spiderman just sat there staring at him.

  
[Hey! Breathe.]

  
(We’d rather have a heart attack.)

  
“Alright, if you’re that desperate—“ Wade flipped his imaginary hair, “—to know my backstory and too lazy to actually stalk me.” He cleared his throat, prepping himself as he lowered his voice in an exaggerated rate.

  
“In a world, where people are dumb and Canadian, lived a woman who gave later gave birth to the coolest, most awesome, most handsome—“

  
“I‘ve never met someone as weird as you.” Spiderman commented. 

  
“Well, that cool, awesome, intriguing gentleman got diagnosed with this sickening disease that resulted to this sickening face.” Wade story told, gesturing to his mask-covered face.

  
[That’s not what happened.]

  
(At all.)

  
[You’re a horrid storyteller, old sport. Even Ms. Writer over here is better than you.]

  
“I don’t know if it’s real or if you’re just making it up.”

  
“Ooh, you ask me what my backstory was and now you’re complaining because you think it’s made up. I see how it is, bug boy.” Wade crossed his arms.

  
“Is it cancer?”

  
“Yeah.” Wade nodded, “I don’t remember half of it but basically I have cancer planted all over my fucking body. Quite literally.”

  
“Oh.” Spiderman’s voice was quiet, “I know someone who’s uh... who has cancer.”

  
“Too bad, Spidey.” Wade hummed. He knew how badly cancer affects the people around the diagnosed person. That’s why he risked leaving Petey in hopes of getting cure that stupid agent promised him like some marketing personnel. Sadly, he just had to get this haunting face in addition to watching Peter from afar like some nasty stalker.

  
“Yeah.” Spiderman murmured, “That man’s crazy special.”

  
Wade was shocked that Spiderman looked sad and upset. The hero was always guarded, always stood with his chin up and now Wade was seeing the hero with the shoulders slumped and head down.

  
“Webhead, it’s alright. Well, it’s really not because that would really hurt especially he’s ‘crazy special’. I left my uh.. partner when I decided to become a dumb dick.” Wade pursed his lips, “I see that man often. He’s alright.”

  
[Trying to keep your damn cool, I see.]

  
(And doing a terrible job at it.)

  
“Partner.” Spiderman repeated. He was about to ask something, but Wade got to it immediately, “Too curious there, Spidey. You’re being unfair!”

  
“Sorry.” The hero sheepishly said. “I just get curious sometimes.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dont know what this chapter is???


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deadpool looked up, and ...
> 
>  
> 
> fuck, fuck fuck.
> 
>  
> 
> His eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gee, great summary. I totally forgot to update omg

**Chapter Eight: Oh You Fucked Up, Bad**

  
When Peter heard about the commotion down south, apparently a gang fight or whatever, he instantly assumed Deadpool would be there. The merc had a violent job which basically revolves about assassination and more violence. It was really impossible not to assume he wouldn’t be there. Peter was on his way, probably fifteen minutes ahead of the cops since they tied themselves with the traffic. Peter wanted to do a victory, mocking cheer for them. He always poked fun at the cops for how much they poked fun at him.

  
Down south was like a ghost town. It was quiet at first, but then Peter could hear some yelling and shooting from inside a particular large building.

Peter swung over, sticking himself to the wall beside a window. He peeked in subtly, loads of armed men are inside. He needed to get them all webbed up before the cops come because it would be extra messy with them, no offense.

  
Peter entered through the small opening on the rooftop, fitting himself with difficulty before he was hands and feet upside down on the ceiling. There was only two guards carrying these large guns roaming the other side of the floor with another two on the one side.. It was a circular floor with the center punched through. Peter slid himself down using his web, as he got nearer to his first victim, he tapped him on the head with his foot. As the man turned around confusedly, Peter turned him into a large cocoon with his webs. Before the other one could see him, he taped him to the floor, face covered.

  
Peter crawled to the other side once again, this time he webbed them up at the dame time. This stealth mission would take him more than a few minutes. The cops would be here faster than he can say ‘fast’.

  
Dropping to the floor, he made his way to the stairs, doing things with his webs to make himself go faster. As he reached the next floor down, he could hear the commotion. The fire exit door had a window on it, so he peeked.

  
“Just what I’ve thought.” Peter muttered to himself as he saw the familiar mercenary swinging around with his swords and guns. He watched as Deadpool basically play with his victims. He dodged the bullets quite cleanly, even though he didn’t really need to. Peter figured it’d still hurt like hell. Deadpool got locked into this man’s hands, choking him against a wall. The merc grabbed his neck, then pulled the man towards him as he moved his head to the side so the man’s forehead collided with the wall. He dropped down in a second.

  
Peter’s senses started to warn him, and he moved to the side and caught the hand that was holding a knife. He twisted the wrist, and the other man brought his free hand up to punch Peter in the face. Peter groaned at the impact, grabbed his other hand and slammed him to the door. It swung open and both of them landed to the ground.

  
“Spidey!” Deadpool gleefully greeted but then his groan was heard, “You shot me in the fucking eye!” Deadpool unsheathed his katana and twirled it between his hands.

  
Peter winced at the image, but he managed to deliver a punch to the guy before sticking him to the floor. He stood up. He jumped back as he saw another man charge towards him. He was about to throw a punch but the advancing man suddenly stopped, dropping knees first to the floor. There was a small knife dug to the back of his neck.

  
The whole room was practically painted with blood and flesh. Peter slapped a hand to his forehead, “Why are you here?”

  
“The question is, why are you here?” Deadpool sassily shot back. He made a sound as he pulled out his katana from his victim’s back.

  
Peter crossed his arms.

  
“Alright.” Deadpool huffed, “I was doing a job.” He didn’t even bother wiping his weapon from the blood before he sheathed them.

  
“You killed most of the people in here!” Peter scolded. He didn’t know what for, really. It was Deadpool’s... thing.

  
“It was a job, webhead.” Deadpool’s eye was still bleeding, and it was a gruesome sight, “I didn’t want to do it.”

  
They heard the police sirens from outside, so Peter groaned, “Great, now I didn’t get to finish my job. Come on.” He went back to the fire exit, climbing up the stairs and to the floor he was previously. Deadpool followed him close behind.

  
“Can you lift yourself up to—“ Before Peter could point to the small exit on the ceiling, Deadpool was already using his grappling hook. Peter followed him, before closing the door.

  
Peter stood close to Deadpool, offering his arm with an annoyed look, “Come aboard to Spidey Airlines.”

  
Deadpool snorted before he latched onto the hero. Soon, they were swinging back and forth to the city and on the way to Deadpool’s apartment. Deadpool was bleeding on his shoulder and Peter chose to ignore it, seeing that they were close to his apartment already. They entered his apartment through the window as usual.

  
“Thanks for that again, Spidey.” Deadpool slipped off his boots and weapons, “I knew you missed me already. Couldn’t resist my man charm,”

  
“Yeah, whatever, go stop your eye from bleeding, please.” Peter refused to look at him. He watched as Deadpool saluted before he walked out of the room, bumping his side against the doorway awkwardly.

  
Peter found himself in the livingroom, muttering, “Jesus, this apartment I swear.” It was almost at the same state as it was whenever he visited. It was nothing new so Peter should really get used to it by now. But jeez, Deadpool could at least pick a few things up around here. There were even a few rats and cockroaches casually crawling on each corner of the room. If Peter was the owner of this apartment building, he’d kick the hell out of Deadpool’s ass and burn this room down.

  
Just then, he heard a loud, complaining groan, “Ugh, God.”

  
“Deadpool? You alright?” Peter approached the bathroom, stopping short in the hallway.

  
“Just broke my fucking wrist.” Deadpool’s voice was slightly muffled through the door, and then he added, “And I’m not beating off, if that’s what you’re thinking, Spideykins! I know it’s fitting for the situation but jacking off is the last thing I want to do. Right now at least.”

  
“Want me to help you?” Peter kept his tone at bay.

  
“No, my eye is bleeding and I can’t find my mask.” Peter assumed his eye wasn’t really Deadpool’s problem. Peter knew why.

  
“You sure?”

  
“No. Help me find my mask.”

  
“Alright, I’m coming in.” Peter waited a few seconds before he opened the door. Deadpool stood there with a towel over his face, his suit still on and his injured hand flopped down.

  
Peter paid no mind to the towel, “Let’s find your mask.” He checked the cabinets, just in case, and he pushed away the scattered clothes. He peeked over the hamper where more clothes were. With nose scrunched, he complained, “There’s a laundry shop not too far from here.”

  
“I’m aware.” Deadpool answered.

  
“You seem like you’re not.” Peter saw red on top of the hamper and he snatched it, “Found it.”

  
When he looked back at Deadpool, he was still standing there, all stiff and tense with the towel over his head but his uninjured hand was stretched out. His gloves were off and Peter could perfectly see the scars and the craters. Peter handed him the mask, “Here.”

  
“Thanks, Spidey.” Deadpool’s tone was light, “I should’ve known you’d be useful.”

  
“Say something like that again or the towel leaves your head.”

  
“Ooh, threatening. So hot. You should do that some more time. ”

  
“Whatever, Deadpool.” Peter walked out of the bathroom, making sure to close the door so Wade wouldn’t hesitate removing his cover. Peter honestly thought it wouldn’t be that bad. He imagined Deadpool a couple of times, yeah, when he was too curious. He quit doing it after accidentally imagining Wade.

  
Now that he was thinking about it, he really wanted to see Deadpool’s face. He got a peek of it every once in a while when they decided to eat, but Peter particularly wanted to get to his eyes. What color it would be. If Peter could identify when he was being genuine or not.

  
He held off his curiosity until they were eating some Chinese and their masks were rolled up to half of their faces. Peter was sitting on the couch while Deadpool was on the floor, attention on the television in front of them. Peter finished his. He threw his empty box in the trash and then the chopsticks, looking perfectly neat.

  
Deadpool was impressed, “Woah. Nice skills there, Spidey. I never thought getting bit by a spider has some awesome side effects.”

  
“Nah, it’s all me.” Peter teased.

  
Deadpool turned to him, now giving him his full attention, “Oh really? Your nerdy, science-y, geeky part? Would you beat me on your pop quiz?”

  
“Douche.” Peter rolled his eyes.

  
“You’re adorable, Spidey, it might make me puke.” Deadpool hummed happily. He continued eating, stuffing his cheeks, “You know, I sometimes imagine how you would be. Like, a regular person just walking around. Would you have this uptight schedule of coffee in the morning, work, lunch time with salad and friends, work again, and then go home then draw yourself a bath with these... bath decorations to like, color the water or some shit like that. You just seem like the person for it.”

  
Peter shook his head at him, smiling to himself. Peter did have a mood like that for a few times. He was always in order and clean, but ever since the crime rate have been going up like crazy in New York, he didn’t have time for that anymore. Peter pursed his lips, unable to keep his eyes from the merc, “Uh... Deadpool?”

  
“What’s it, webhead? More Chinese?” Deadpool reached for the bag, “You know, this has got to be my favorite Chinese I’ll ever have. Their dumplings are the best. I love Asians. And Mexicans. Can’t forget about them Latinos.”

  
“Can you remove your mask?” Peter blurted out.

  
“I can,” Deadpool started.

  
“But you won’t.” Peter supplied.

  
“Oh trust me, bug boy. It wouldn’t be worth it.” Deadpool snorted, “Nuh-uh. My face is like the ‘before’ picture of any good trasformation.”

  
“Your story was good.” Peter tried, “I was interested for more but I didn’t want to push you.”

  
“Well, my face isn’t interesting, that’s for sure.” He pointed to the exposed part of his face, “Isn’t this enough? It’s already horrifying as it is.”

  
“No.” Peter grinned.

  
“You’re pretty persistent, aren’t you?” said Deadpool, “It’s like you’re fighting for something important or something. My face isn’t anyone’s concernl”

  
“I can’t see why it would be a problem.” Peter shrugged. He genuinely didn’t know why, but then again, people could be pretty judgmental if they wanted to, “Looks don’t matter to me.”

  
“That’s what they all say until they see this rotten candy.” Deadpool pursed his lips. He tossed his food aside, wiping his mouth.

  
“Other people have seen your face. I’m a friend, too.” And woah, Peter was almost whining.

  
Deadpool teased, poking Peter’s feet, “Is Spidey jealous?” He was smug, “To make you feel better, I’m eating with you right now, so don’t be jealous, my bug boy.” He cooed mockingly.

  
Peter scoffed, crossing his arms, “I’m not.”

  
Deadpool sighed jokingly, “You won’t get this face that easy, webhead. Even if you are cute and has insanely pink lips.”

  
“Just a peek?” Peter gave him a large pleading smile.

  
Deadpool scratched at his arm, “Will you show me yours then?”

  
“What?”

  
“Show me yours.” Deadpool repeated.

  
Peter nodded, “Okay.” He trusted Deadpool and that was enough.

  
Deadpool sighed, and then he reached to tug his mask off. He looked down for a few moments. Peter scooted closer, “Hey.”

  
Deadpool looked up, and ...

  
fuck, fuck fuck.

  
His _eyes_. It had been completely healed while they ate and all, and fuck those were the most familiar brown eyes he’s ever seen. Peter’s breath hitched, his eyes prickling with tears as he whispered, stuttering, “W-Wade..” Wade didn’t hear it. “Oh my God.” Peter stood up. He walked backwards and ended up stumbling over Deadpool’s scattered cushions.

  
“Spidey?” Deadpool... Wade stood as well, concern all over his face.

  
Peter’s breathing has gone up, and he forces himself to calm down before he starts a damn panic attack. He thrusts his palm towards Deadpool, shaking his head. He can’t find his words right now. Seeing Wade, his Wade Wilson, standing there in front of them and realizing they’ve been playing blind with each other was... unbelievable. Fate must have thought this was the funniest thing ever.

  
“I know, alright?” Wade hissed, grabbing his mask and tugging it over his head, “I’m disgusting. I know I am, but fuck, Spidey—“

  
“I have to go.” Peter gulped heavily.

  
“Yeah.” Wade scoffed, “Be my fucking guest.”

  
Peter turned to Deadpool’s room, chest and shoulders still heavy. As he climbed through the window, he risked one look back, and then was off. He was supposed to be on patrol, but he skipped it for obvious reasons. He jumped through his window, shutting it down and pulling the blinds. He ripped off his mask and launched it at the wall, his hands flying up to his hair to tug in frustration.

  
He still remembered how Wade left him. He didn’t bother waking up Peter to inform him of his sudden getaway. Peter looked for him like batshit crazy, getting his hopes up and down in different ways. He never gave up on Wade until he got the answer.

  
Now, he did and he didn’t know how to feel about it.

  
Wade was Deadpool. How the hell didn’t Peter notice? It was his confidence, his charisma, his jokes, his voice, the way he laughs, the way he speaks, the way he cheers him up and so much more. Why didn’t that switch in Peter’s head go off, tell him that Wade was in right in front of him in disguise of this red and black suit with weapons strapped to his every limb?

  
Peter broke down into a sob, looking through his fingers as he sees his ‘Wade’ wall. He walks over to it, gripping to the papers stuck to the wall before ripping them into pieces. The pictures, the proofs, everything. Soon, his room was a mess of heaps of papers and red tape.

  
//

  
[Calm down, big guy.]

  
(You don’t deserve him.)

  
[He doesn’t deserve you.]

  
(Yeah, thanks, Captain Supportive.)

  
Wade was sat on his living room floor, mask still on. Jesus Christ, it was all too good to be true. He should have seen that coming. Spiderman was just a goody-two shoe on the outside but he didn’t really care. He was irrelevant. Wade should’ve known. No one could accept him, ever. He was being too fucking hopeful for that stupid hero. Wade actually thought...—

  
“Fuck it.” Wade groaned, a guttural, low sound before he stood on his feet. He walked to his room where the window was open, letting the wind in. Wade shut it down hard. Under the strong force, the glass broke. He grabbed one of his guns from the floor. He twirled it around his finger before pointing it to his temple. Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger.

[Oh man.]

  
(This guy is frustrating, I swear.)

  
[You think he’s gonna mope around like a little bitch?]

  
(Bet on it. He shot himself so what do you expect?)

  
[Man, that Spidey guy sure is fucked up.]

  
Wade woke up half an hour later. He was 1uite dizzy but he just shrugged it off as he carried himself to his bed, dumping himself on it. He made a slow work of sloppily taking off his suit, leaving him bare but comfortable. He was settling in the sheets, tossing and turning even though he knew he couldn’t sleep that easy with everything at once in his mind.

  
[We should sneak in his apartment tonight and kill him.]

  
(Or... tie him to the wall and make him listen to Nickelback. That always works.)

  
“I appreciate the concern.” Wade muttered, throwing an arm over his eyes.  
[Oh, we’re not. We’re just incredibly tired of hearing you moan about these types of things.]

  
(You should’ve gotten over it by now. It’s been a year.)

  
[Or 84 years, judging by what you look like.]

  
“That’s low.” Wade deadpanned. He got up to get a shirt some sweatpants. Seeing all of his skin then was making him feel even worse.

  
Fuck, he shouldn’t even feel anything about it. Sure, people had screeched and laughed and basically curse his face but he learned to just push that to the back of his mind—

  
[And push away the urge to push them off a cliff.]

  
\--- but shit, Spiderman was a friend. Like.. friend-friend. Like I-can-be-extra-weirder-around-you-friend. Generally, Spiderman was a goddamn angel. He saved people for free and has an oddly positive perception to this fucked society.

  
Well, of course he’d judge Wade somehow. Wade, Deadpool, whatever the fuck he was, he was different from what Spiderman could ever be. Wade killed people, acted like an idiot, walking around with deadly weapons, making fun of people, calling names—

  
[List could go on forever.]

  
(Literally limitless.)

  
[You skinned a cat once. For fun.]

  
(Cat, is that like... a code name for pu--)

  
[No, just a cat. Siamese, to be exact.]

  
Wade groaned, practically clawing on his bald, scarred head. He paced around the room and stopped for his phone. He sat on the floor, leaning against the wall as he opened his gallery, going to a specific album. He scrolled down hundreds of pictures he had taken with Peter; some selfies with him because Peter was a photogenic freak, some of their belongings like their matching shit, but most of them consisted of Peter just doing random stuff, completely unaware of Wade sneakily taking a discreet photoshoot from far away. There was him doing his homework, working on his Science project with those insanely adorable glasses, doing the dishes cleaning the bathroom, grumpily fixing the bed, sleeping, and kind of everything, really.

  
Those pictures kept Wade grounded. As weird and impossible as that sounds, it really did. Wade loved Peter, a whole fucking lot.

  
[Wait, let me grab some popcorn and tissues.]

  
(It’s like we’re watching an overly-dramatic, romance movie.)

  
[No, we’re reading an overly-dramatic romance fanfiction.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys wouldnt care but my favorite novel rn and probably forever is Song of Achilles alright. I'mm all hyped up about greek myths rn because of it.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Kiss or not, he doesn’t look very alive.” Wade murmured. He crouched down in front of him. He grabbed his mask from his pocket and slid it over his head, tugging his hoodie afterwards. He turned the hero to his side. He was weak and obviously injured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updated in such a long time im so sorry

**Chapter Nine: Things Shall Be Broken (Then Fixed, Whatever)**

Peter left Jameson’s office after being yelled at. His pictures were stomped at, but was accepted. He was that close to being fired. As he was about to duck down into an alley, someone called his name. He turned back, seeing Gwen. She was looking pretty as usual, wearing a gray pencil skirt to match this coat with a much lighter color.

“Hey Gwen.” He greeted, stepping towards her. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly before pocketing his hands. Peter didn’t necessarily dislike Gwen. She was a friend. Well, that was before she met Wade and both she and Harry made it their very goal to avoid him at all costs.

“Hey Pete.” She smiled, “Haven’t talked you uh.. in quite a while.”

“A year.” Peter shrugged. They saw each other quite often since they worked at the same building, but Peter just chose to ignore her, “What’s up, cause... I kind of have to.. go do something.. important.”

“Nothing. I just wanted to see if you’re alright.” She said. She was confusing. Girls were confusing, “If you’ve been alright, I mean.”

Peter muttered, “Always better.” He forced a smile, “Listen uh, I’ve gotta go. Duty calls.” Yes, it did.

“Alright.” She nodded, her small smile looking more like a grimace, “See you when I see you, then.” Peter only looked at her in response before he walked away. He missed Gwen. He seriously did but she did wrong.

As soon as he was out of sight, he ducked to the nearest alley, only springing out as Spiderman. People called out his name as he did. He dodged a tree with a yelp. He swung himself higher and higher until there was no higher building he could use to swing. He picked his building and stayed perched on top of it.

It was only a few days since he last saw and had been with Deadpool. Peter couldn’t face him yet. He couldn’t. He didn’t have the courage and he didn’t know how. He had no idea that the man behind Spiderman was Peter Parker; the man he loved and left a year ago.

Peter was mad. He was. He was mad at Wade because he left with no goddamn explanation and then a year later, Peter met this crazy merc in a red and black suit who happened to be the exact same man. Funny thought, Peter almost didn’t know he was bound to fall for this ‘antihero’ sooner or later. He was about to fall for Wade again, without even stopping to love him.

“This gets really messed up.” Peter spoke to himself. He heard something behind him. He looked over his shoulder, shoulders sagging as he didn’t find anyone there. He missed Wade, so much.

Sirens was heard from way down below. Peter sighed in relief, stretching his limbs, “Time for work.” He jumped off the building, adrenaline filling him as he webbed to another at the last second. He developed speed, almost running ahead of the cops. Some were yelling at him to get out of the way but Peter ignored them, as usual.

Their target was a stolen black Porsche a few kilometers a head of them. Peter could already see it from his position, so he gained himself even more speed. Halfway through the chase, the cops were eventually catching up, but suddenly a huge truck t-boned them, making a huge destruction. Peter made a huge spider web on the other street so the cars wouldn’t have that hard impact before webbing the sides of the truck and pulling it to avoid hitting them.

Once settled, Peter tracked down the vehicle. The whole truck thing had done an advantage to them, because they got a huge headstart. Peter caught up, and when he was nearer, men from the backseat looked through the window and started shooting him with their pistols.

“Woah, woah!” Peter dodged every bullet. He didn’t really fancy going to hospitals and having to ruin his identity.

“You aim like a grandmother.” Peter shot a line of web to the back of the car before pulling himself towards it. He landed on the car and ran towards the front. Bullets fired again, and he finally got impatient, using the perfect time to grab their weapons using his webs and letting tem fly into the air before webbing them into electrical wires above.

The car was still running, desperately trying to shake Spiderman off. Peter, thankfully, had his feet stuck to the hood of the car. He webbed the windshield before doing his usual strike again, breaking through the glass. He drove a punch to the driver’s face, and put his hands on the dashboard, kicking his feet up to hit the two men on the backseat. The driver reached for him and Peter shot webs onto his hands, sticking them to the steering wheel, “Keep driving.”

He didn’t realize it was a stupid thing to do. As he tended to the two goons at the back, the driver was trying to break himself from the webs. It wobbled the car in different directions, and when the driver got free, the steering wheel lost control and the car swiveled to a right and slammed to a corner.

Peter didn’t have time to get himself out, for he had a foot in his face and two hands trying to snap his neck. The impact was a hard one, completely destroying the hood of the car. Peter felt extremely weak afterwards but he had enough consciousness to drag himself out of the car.

“Spiderman!” A few people gasped, forming a small crowd around the car.

“’M still alive.” Peter coughed, clutching his gut. God, that was some impact. He put his feet under him, but he stumbled and caught himself by the back of the car.

Two men came forward, “You need help, Spidey?” They looked like genuine people.

Peter weakly patted their shoulders, “No thank you, gentlemen. I appreciate it.” He shook his head before he shot a web and swung himself out of there. His apartment was a long way so he planned to just rest by his previous building. Unfortunately, it was too high and Peter’s body was aching and his suit had a few scratches from the glasses flying everywhere from the accident.

“Come on.” Peter urged himself. He raised his other arm to swing, but a sudden pain shot from his side and he lost his momentum. He landed pretty hard. He slowly pushed himself up again before stumbling in the nearby alley.

Inside the alley, he sat down by the concrete wall and leaned his head back, trying to catch his breath. His whole body was in pain. He sometimes wished his healing factor was as better as that other guy. But at least it was there. “Guess I could spend the night here.” Peter groaned out. He knew he couldn’t. His bed would be heaven right now.

  
Peter pushed himself up. His legs wobbled, but he managed to step. He only managed a few before he fell out of his consciousness.

//

“Giving up already?” Weasel called out over the dizzying music. They were at a stripper club. It was inconvenient and unreasonable. Wade didn’t know how he ended up in here.

“Screw you. ” Wade headed to the back, huffing out air. He began to walk out of the alley, stopping short in his tracks.

[Omg, is that who I think it is?]

(Andrew Garfield?)

[Wait, what? No! It’s Spidey!]

(Mission abort, mission abort. Evacuate place immediately.)

“Thanks, whoever brought him here.” Wade muttered. He stepped closer, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Spiderman was lying face down on the concrete and there were multiple gashes and cuts in his suit. He smelled like dirt and blood.

[Shit.]

(I swear the fate-play in this is such a 10/10.)

[We should play the hero so we can get kissed.]

(He doesn’t want to kiss us. Clearly.)

[His loss.]

“Kiss or not, he doesn’t look very alive.” Wade murmured. He crouched down in front of him. He grabbed his mask from his pocket and slid it over his head, tugging his hoodie afterwards. He turned the hero to his side. He was weak and obviously injured.

[Where should we take him?]

(Our fun house, perhaps.)

Deadpool grabbed his arm and swung his other one around his torso. He swung Spiderman over his shoulder before he walked away. On the way, some people looked at them, but Wade didn’t even glance at them. Reaching his apartment, Wade climbed the metal staircase attached to the walls outside. He’d used his grappling hook, but he’s got an injured Spiderman on board.

He slid his window open. He gently, literally put Spiderman through the window and on the floor before he climbed in himself. His sheets still got dried jizz in them, so he stripped the bed and then laid the hero on it. Wade sighed and walked out of the room. He came back with a bottle of water and his rusty old first aid kit. He left the room then.

[Ugh. Couch, again?]

(We should toss him out the window.)

Wade stayed in the couch, flipping through channels in the telly. He drank on beer, dropping the can to the floor once finished.

[This is getting more boring than a documentary about One Direction.]

(I’m more confused than anything. What happened to Spidey?)

[Why did we rescue him?]

(How’d he get hurt?)

[Why is he even here?]

(Is he okay?)

“Just shut up. Shut up.” Wade ran his hands over his mask. He stayed up all night switching from playing video games to watching reruns of Friends to get trough the night. He couldn’t sleep but he was tired. His mind wasn’t even helping.

[Excuse you, we’re your bestfriends.]

(We can’t even leave you no matter how much we try.)

Morning soon came, and Wade was still slouched sloppily against his couch. Spiderman still wasn’t coming up—

[Or he probably left already.]

(Guy always has a habit for leaving.)

\--- so Wade stood up. “God,” he stretched and cracked his fingers and neck. As he made his way to his room, he listened to any noises. He heard loud snores once he stepped through the doorway. Spiderman was laying flat on his stomach, head turned to the side with his cheek mushed against Wade’s pillow.

[Must be having the sleep of his life.]

(On Deadpool’s clean-deprived, jizz-dried mattress, sure.)

Wade was about to walk out when his phone suddenly rang in his pocket. He took it out and answered it, walking out of the room, “What?”

“Greetings to you, too, Mr. Pool.” The voice was low, and husky.

“Deadpool.” Wade rolled his eyes.

[Just can’t seem to grasp it, can they?]

(They’re respectable but not so smart.)

“What d’you want, huskiness?” Wade asked.

“I’ve got a job for you.”

Wade glanced back at the snoring, probably drooling, hero, “No, I’m loaded.”

“But it—“

“No,” Wade repeated firmly, “I’m. Loaded.” He hung up and turned off his phone. It was partially true. But it was mostly because he was lazy and not in the mood to accept jobs.

[Sure, too lazy.]

(‘Not in the mood’)

Wade heard a thud from his room. He stepped back to see Spiderman grunting on the floor, pushing himself to sit up. He saw Wade and he just stared. Wade wished he could see his face. God knows, Spiderman was probably making faces at him.

“I saw you at an alley.” Wade greeted, “Looked pretty beat up.”

“I’m fine.” Spiderman dismissed. He struggled to get on his feet, stumbling a little bit.

Wade watched, “You alright?”

“I’m fine.” The hero snapped.

[Oh hell no.]

(He did not just—no.)

Wade crossed his arms, “Do I get a thank you? Kind of let you borrowed my bed for a whole night.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“Hello, meet my initiative.” Wade said sarcastically, “I should’ve really left you to die on that alley, let someone take advantage of you.”

Spiderman didn’t answer.

“I didn’t really know you had it in you, Spidey.” Wade wondered out loud in a fake gleeful tone, “Giving poor judgment.”

Spiderman tilted his head to the side, “What are you talking about?”

Wade clenched his fists, “Well, you made me feel like I can use my face to make any living person run away and be scarred for life.”

[It kind of is.]

“I..”

“Yeah, thanks a lot for that.” Wade shrugged, “Should’ve seen it sooner.”

“Wade-“ Spiderman sighed, correcting himself, “Deadpool.” Spiderman stuttered. It felt.. satisfying for someone else so close other than Weasel to say his name. Wade’s name was known, but it wasn’t the talk of the town, really, “That’s not what I intended.”

“Oh, were you supposed to throw a pretty surprise for me after? Yeah, Spiderman, I was really shocked by what you did.” Wade sighed deeply, “I’ve had shit people spit at this fugly thing you call skin.” Wade ripped off his mask, “And oh, Spiderman, my newly-earned hero friend, I didn’t know you’d be one of those shit people.”

“I can’t right now.” Spiderman practically pleaded but his tone was still hard, “You won’t understand.”

“Aha, fuck you.” Wade snorted, “Thanks for using my bed, now please kindly get the fuck out.”

Spiderman climbed through the window, “Whatever it is I’ve done, I’m sorry.”

“No thanks.”

//

Peter hadn’t meant to do anything that could offend Deadpool. If he did, he would apologize, but Deadpool wasn’t exactly on the right, either. If only he knew who Spiderman really was behind the mask, it would be so much easier to handle it. Peter’s not ready to talk to him.

He had been surprised Deadpool- Wade even considered carrying him all the way to his apartment. He had to thank him properly for that. Peter could actually have been taken advantage of. So many people are really against him even the law, even after a year they still weren’t used to him, and it was great coincidence that Deadpool arrived.

Peter sometimes forget how he and Wade are the same person.

Seeing his face like that, all covered in scars and craters, it was all new to Peter. Peter didn’t mind it. He was more focused to Wade’s lies and secrets. Peter wanted to know everything that happened to his life this past a year.

“I don’t see why you won’t quit your job.” Gwen said. Peter didn’t know how and why, but he simply agreed to let her take him out for coffee, “Jameson gives you so much shit for nothing.”

“I’m working on it.” Peter murmured, staring down at his cup, “I just don’t have the time right now.”

“That’s your only job, though, isn’t it?” Gwen asked. She was eating a croissant.

“No.” Peter glanced at her, “I have another one.”

“Oh.” Gwen nodded, and then it got quiet.

It wasn’t always this quiet with Gwen before. They were friends even before he met Wade, but meeting him wasn’t quite a pleasant memory for that girl. It wasn’t for Peter, either. After that, he felt like Gwen judged him for every decision he would make.

“Peter, are you sure you’re okay?” She asked suddenly. She reached across the table to grasp Peter’s hand but Peter’s senses it there first, and he raised it to his mouth to cough into it.

“Yeah, yeah, of course I am.” Peter nodded repeatedly.

“I know he left you, but—“

“I’m okay.” Peter cut her off. Her sudden concern is throwing him off, “You don’t.. nevermind. I have to go. I’m nearly late for my job.” He stood up, clutching his cup in his hand as he walked out of the coffee shop.   
Gwen followed him close behind, “Peter, I was just looking out for you because I’m your friend.”

“Oh, I thought you forgot all about that when you met Wade.” Peter continued walking, “Gwen, we haven’t talked in a long time. It’s really not going to be that simple.”

Peter continued his fast pace until he couldn’t feel her heels’ loud footsteps. He needed some distraction. He walked off until he got the chance to enter an alley. Although, he stopped abruptly. He felt his senses alarming him. He turned sharply, looking around. He felt like someone was watching him.

His gaze dropped to a figure standing still across the street. He was wearing a hoodie so it was hard to see his face. But Peter knew exactly who it was. He bit his lip before he continued to walk. He bit back his tears. When he reached his apartment, he slammed the door and locked it. He barely used the door. The window was more damaged than the door itself.

Peter locked himself in his room. He sat on the floor, resting his head on one hand and grabbing his phone with the other. He scrolled and scrolled until he got to something he hadn’t listened in a long time.

_“Petey, it’s really not that bad. I mean, we should’ve seen it coming with me drinking and smoking left and right. Brain cancer, though, what the fuck, right? I guess I’m too fucked up in the head. Look, I don’t want us fighting over this and you’re being stupid right now, God, such a stubborn little man. I can die right now and the last thing I want is for you in a bar, drinking away our problems even when you know it really won’t. Ha, look, tables have turned. Point is, I don’t want you to be all sad about it. I want you to remember me. And just know that I love you.”_

Peter sobbed into his hands, getting snot and tears all over his sleeve and collar. It wasn’t his shirt, though, but whatever. It’s crazy how he missed Wade. And now, Peter had seen him, talked to him. Hell, he even ate with him and Peter didn’t even realize. Peter missed him so much more.

Peter got up and sat on his desk. There was a framed picture of Wade on the corner. Sometimes, Peter had it facing down on the desk, and now he put it up properly once again. He folded his arms and rested his chin on the back of his hands, “Idiot.” He whispered, “Why did you leave?”

//

Peter knocked on the window, staying crouched on the stairway. He waited, looking through the glass before he saw Wade. He was in casual clothes but he had most of his skin covered and he had his mask on. Peter waved, giving a small smile even though he knew hit would be unseen. Wade didn’t make a move until he did, unlatching the window before walking out.

It was a few days that passed before Peter actually gathered his shit and decided to talk to Deadpool. Deadpool, not Wade. Peter knew what made Deadpool upset about him. He had been insecure about his skin and Peter, as Spiderman, reacted negatively towards it.

When Peter stepped foot into the room, he noticed one thing. It was clean. Peter thought it was strange but he ignored it. He abruptly stopped however, when he caught sight of the living room. The whole place was clean. There were no cans of beer, no dying cockroaches in the corner. It was a simple apartment. Sure, the walls look old and the floor could have been better but it was clean.

“Wow.” Peter said.

Wade was sitting on the couch, “Yeah.”

“It’s clean.” Peter stepped further into the room, “Clean enough for someone to live in it.”

“I’ve proven that theory wrong already so.” Wade shrugged.

“That’s not really what I came here for.” Peter shifted on his feet. He clasped his hands and twiddled with his thumbs, looking down on them, “I want to.. um.. I’m sorry about how I reacted. I have a pretty good reason but I can’t exactly tell you.”

“I feel much better!” Wade said in overly-enthusiastic tone that Peter thought it was fake. It was, “But, I’m not the type to hold grudges, Spidey. I have more important matters than get butthurt by something I’ve been experiencing for years.” He waved a hand, “I’m more carefree a dog running through fallen autumn leaves.”

Peter felt worse.

“Don’t worry your head off, webhead.” Wade stood up and stretched, “I’ll play you for it.”

“For what?” Peter watched as Wade inserted a game, tossing him a controller which he caught neatly.

“For you to stop worrying. You’re focusing on it much more than I am.” Wade sat back on the couch. Peter sat next to him, folding his legs under him before he saw the game.

“Crash Bandicoot.” Spiderman pursed his lips.

“It’s a classic.” Wade said with triumph, “Go on, see if your spider senses can tingle in this game. You think you can beat it, huh, Spidey?”

Peter scoffed, statting the game as he sarcastically said, “’Do I think I can beat it.’”

Wade watched in anticipation, leaning forward as Peter played, his bottom lip being nibbled between his lips. He cursed under his breath as he fell down a pit, having to start all over again. Wade snorted at that, “Not so good now, are we?”

At Peter’s third try, he finally finished the level but he didn’t manage to beat Wade’s highscore. Peter crossed his arms, “Doesn’t matter. I have a natural talent for jumping, and swinging and lots more.”

“Yeah, you’re a delight.” Wade grinned under his mask. A few more minutes of playing, Peter cleared his throat, “I have to go... patrol.”

“Of course. A busy hero is always busy. Bring me back something shiny.”

Peter left with a much lighter feeling, but not quite. He was feeling still an ounce of guilt. Wade always had a light heart, telling jokes and attempting to lighten up the mood (even if he wasn’t attempting at all.) It comes so naturally to him and Peter loved him for it. Peter, while coming over a few times a week, was set on making things a little less tense with him and he did just that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked it!


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade snickered, “Let’s just talk about each other like what normal people do on dates.”
> 
> Peter tried to act nonchalant, grabbing another bottle once his previous one was empty, “This is a date, I see?”
> 
> “Eh, it is what it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S BEEN A VEY LONG TIME, BUT ONLY BECAUSE IT SLIPPED OFF MY MIND AND I HAD TOO MUCH TO HANDLR

**Chapter Ten: Emotions Spill Like Alcohol**

_Wanna get fcked uuuup? :D_

Peter arched an eyebrow at Wade’s text. He just got off work and he was sure he developed emphysema from all the smoke he inhaled from Jameson’s cigar. Also, he earned Wade’s number a few nights before when Wade spilled soda all over his spandex chest and located his phone magically. Peter realized he didn’t use his phone much before he got Wade’s number. He was hesitant at first , his identity at risk but Wade was completely innocent (and dumb).

 _Depends what kind._ Peter answered.

Wade didn’t reply until Peter was on the way to his apartment, taking a taxi this time. _The alchol-throwing-up-on-bucket-after-whIle-playing-truth-or-dare kind!! Unless ur under 18 thn fuck off._

_I turned 18 five yrs ago. We still on for your typical, highschool, party plan?_

_Hey!! Is not a typcal, hschool, party. If we’re not horny that is. Underage kids are on a fcking marathon._

Peter pursed his lips, _Should i be worried?_

_i’m loyal._

Peter sighed. He felt like he was getting it but he didn’t want to get his hopes up, _That’s out of the question. You fucked up now?_

Wade’s reply was out of the question as well, but it answered Peter, _Hihihihi Spiderman said a naugty word! Twice!_

_Sigh. Ill come by yours after patrol._

Peter actually considered skipping patrol when he was in the said patrol. Now, he sometimes got patrols like this, the kind that makes him want to copy Deadpool (where he shoots his head because he was bored and wanted to be dead for a few minutes), but he wasn’t that cool. He played around in his phone, waiting for his senses to alert him like usual but it never came. At about five, he wanted to leave. His phone beeped and he checked the message.

It was a text from Wade, and he sent Peter of a picture of Spiderman himself sat by the edge of a building. Peter whipped around, seeing Deadpool with two boxes of pizza, a bag from Taco Bell, and two six packs.

“What’s wrong with your apartment?” Was Peter’s greeting. Eating on a rooftop together was different.

The merc shrugged, “What’s wrong with the rooftop?” He settled next to Peter, placing the stuff between them as he, too, swung his legs over the edge, “Plus, it’s a sunset. No one can resist the sunset.”

Peter opened the pizza box, grabbing a piece. He rolled his mask up to his nose and bit into it, moaning at the taste, “Y’know, I eat pizza in an unnecessary amount in a week because of you and I still can’t get enough.”

“Are you talking about the pizza or me?” Wade snorted. He grabbed a beer for himself, “I’m flattered, Spidey.”

“Whatever.” Peter huffed. He watched as Wade took a big gulp after rolling his mask to his nose, “Weren’t you already drunk?”

“Who said I was?”

“Oh.” Peter realized, “I thought you were drunk while we were texting. Then I realized your attitude is completely similar.”

“You haven’t seen me drunk, webhead.” Wade said, “And when I’m drunk, I whine and become emotional like a teenage girl being rejected by her crush. Or a fan being deprived of sleep and concert tickets.”

“Ooh, am I getting some juicy secrets from you tonight?” Peter grabbed a beer for himself. He haven’t had beer for a long time. That’s almost unhealthy for a 23-year-old guy.

“You just might.” Wade’s mask moved and Peter guessed he was wiggling his eyebrows. He was also wearing a shit-eating grin.

“I better not find out you’re married.” Peter’s eyes widened under his mask, and he quickly added, “Or a monster, a girl, crazy things like that.”

“Me being a girl and married is crazy?” Wade laughed, “Are you taking a chance on me?” He then proceeded to sing Abba’s ‘Take A Chance On Me’ in an insane off-key, “I’m not complaining, though.”

Peter took a swig. He was suddenly so curious on what Wade had done as Deadpool. By ‘had done’, Peter meant if he had associated with someone in a romantic level. They weren’t together anymore (or were they?) but it didn’t mean one didn’t love the other.

“Awfully quiet there, Spidey. You’re creeping me out.”

“Sorry.” Peter said, “Uh.. sunset’s nice.” It really was. It gave a calming effect on the two men. He decided to turn to Deadpool, resting his chin on his hand, “Alright. True or False. A civillian once died because of me having a laugh at the suspect.”

“Hm.” Wade turned to him, as well, rubbing his chin, “Wrong one gets a drink?” Peter nodded, “Well, I say false.”

“Correct.” Peter gave him a knowing look before taking a small gulp, “How’d you know?”

“You wouldn’t let anyone do that, first off. And second, you’d probably be still beating yourself up for it until now because you’re an angel. And third, your love for this city is as unbelievable as your love for science.” Wade shrugged, “I guessed the third one, by the way.”

“Huh.” Peter straightened his lips, “Impressive.”

It was Wade’s turn, “I once got bored that I ripped off my head and paid a couple of kids to hide it so I can play treasure hunt with myself.”

Peter’s eyebrows shot up, “You can actually do that?”

“Uh, uh. True of false?”

“False!” Peter exclaimed, “I mean, kids would be absolutely terrified.”

“Well, I attempted to, so it’s a true. Drink up.”

“Not fair!” Peter frowned, “You didn’t say you attempted and failed, so it’s still a false.”

Wade was wearing a big grin before he shook his head, “Alright, but only because you’re turning whiny.”

“Am not.” Peter watched as he took a gulp, drawling an ‘aah’ after.

“Your turn.” The merc said, “Make it good. Like slipping on crocs for the first time good. Like finding biscuits instead of a sewing kit good.”

“Uh...” Peter wracked his brain, “I’m commando right now.”

“I would hope that’s true.” Wade was wearing his shit eating grin once again, “True.”

“God no.” Peter made a face, “I’m the last person to ever go commando.”

“The lines ruin the your majestic suit! Pity yourself!” Wade gasped, pointing out the barely there lines on the tops of his thighs.

“It’s not even noticeable.” Peter laughed, stretching his spandex before letting it snap back to his skin, “Going commando is worse. Imagine your buttcheeks eating your spandex.”

“Oh.” Wade’s face scrunched, “Yeah. Wedgies suck. But they stretch over your butt. Unless your cheeks are firm, then they would –“

“That’s enough information for buttcheeks and wedgies.” Peter cut him off, “Hey, drink.”

Wade tipped his head back and made a show of it, holding it in his mouth for a moment and raising a brow at Peter before swallowing, “There. My turn.”

Peter grabbed a taco, “Go on.”

Wade straightened his lips before speaking, “I was diagnosed with cancer.”

“Yeah?” Peter asked, his voice almost shaky, “Uh... true..?”

“Aw, manl” Wade took another drink, “You’re pretty good at guessing, webhead. But luck’s gonna run out of you sooner like a leprachaun.” He said grumpily.

“Dumbass, you already said that to me once.” Peter laughed lightly, ignoring the way Wade’s head tilted to the side as if to remember, “Cancer, though.” Peter gulped, “That’s.. that’s difficult.”

“Yeah.” Wade shrugged as if it was no big deal, as if it didn’t ruin them a long time ago, “Wouldn’t have turned into this ugly grandpa.”

Peter waved a hand in the air, “You’re fine for a grandpa.”

“Why, thank you, Spidey! That’s the weirdest compliment I’ve ever received.” Wade placed a gloved hand over his chest.

“I wanna ask you something.” Peter asked, dusting his fingers from the breadcrumbs.

“Shoot.”

“Why a mercenary?”

“Getting deep, Spidey. I like it. In ways more than one.” Wade put down his beer. He then moved himself so he facing Peter, a knee bent where he rested an elbow on it.

“Stop avoiding the question.”

“Demanding spider.” Wade said in amusement, “A mercenary because I was broke, had no future and it was.. just there.” Wade shrugged, “Before you become even more curious, yes I was a mercenary even before Deadpool. Only, I stopped for a long time , a year and a half, maybe? Or.. two years? Yeah, well, point is, I was a mercenary, stopped, then continued as Deadpool when I had no other option. It’s like Captain ‘Merica’s honorable character but mine isn’t as honorable. It’s more of dark and mysterious like Jacob Black.”

“And silly and loud. Your two main traits.” Peter gulped. He knew his answers, “Why’d you stop?” Because of a certain Peter Parker, hopefully.

Wade’s lips straightened then he shrugged, sipping from his bottle, “Just felt like it. Needed a little break. Even handsome guys like me deserve one.”

“Ah.” Peter nodded slowly, turning his gaze to the still setting sun.

“Let’s play equally.” Wade requested. His clasped both of his hands on top of his folded knee. He looked genuinely curious, “How about you? Will you tell me the descriptive novel-like, not-at-all secretive version of your story?”

“Well, to be fair, yours isn’t exactly descriptive and novel-like.” Peter argued back with a small smile.

“Alright, just tell how you became a hero in red spandex, out of all things.”

“You’re wearing spandex, too.” Peter pointed out, “And it’s in red, as well.”

Wade spoke in a high voice, mocking, “Stop avoiding the question.”  
Peter sighed, “Radioactive spider. It got mixed with blood and my DNA—“

“Skip the science, you’re boring me.” Wade groaned, “Novel-like.”

“Jeez, so much complaints.” Peter rolled his eyes with a light smile, “I was at Oscorp, searching stuff. You know, science, nerdy things. I got a little curious and I wandered off to this restricted room where they experimented on them.”

“Ah, you got bit. You told me that.” Wade nodded. He proceeded to cross his legs like a pretzel and rest a palm under his chin, “Someone’s being naughty. And smart. I get nauseous just looking at the damn building it itself.”

“I got curious.” Peter defended, raising his hands up, “I was doing it in a very good reason, though.”

“Mind telling me?”

“Yes, very much.” Peter gave him a guilty grin, “All in good time.”  
Wade whined, pouting, “You always tell me that.”

“Better get used to it, then.” Peter teased, “Heeey, get on with the game.”

“Fuck your game.” Wade snickered, “Let’s just talk about each other like what normal people do on dates.”

Peter tried to act nonchalant, grabbing another bottle once his previous one was empty, “This is a date, I see?”

“Eh, it is what it is.”

Peter’s heart hammered against his chest. He glanced at the merc, seeing him just staring at the city. If Spiderman and Peter Parker weren’t the same person, would Wade still like Spiderman? Not saying that Wade likes Spiderman but just... if.

Peter shook his head at his crazy thoughts, frowning.

“You look constipated.” Wade said with a mouthful. “You can have a go somewhere.” He then rolled an empty bottle towards him, “Or..” He gestured towards it. Peter laughed loudly, clutching his belly.

Wade looked over, raising an eyebrow. Spiderman laughed like he contained a bottle of laughter inside him. He rocked back on his butt and a second later he was stopping, his laughter draining. Wade smiled, “Had enough?”

“I love how you say that so seriously.” Spiderman laughed again.

[This sudden POV change got me confused.]

(Let’s deal with it.)

[Old sport looks like he’s enjoying himself.]

(‘I’m loyal’. Ah. Ha.)

Wade laughed lightly. He was feeling something. He wanted to be quiet and just stare at the sky, getting darker and darker by the second. Wade looked over at the hero, seeing him picking over the left pizza slices to see which had more toppings in them. Wade breathed deeply and took off his mask, draping it on his knee. It felt pleasant to have the wind blowing on his bare face for once. When Wade gave a curious glance towards Spiderman, he was only happily eating his pizza, wearing a small smile. Wade wished he could see his whole face. With his hair and his eyelashes and his eyebrows and his forehead and his eyes. Especially the eyes.

“Have you ever had a uh.. relationship?” Wade asked, “Surely, you had at least one. I could tell he or she had quite a loss. I mean, who would dump Spiderman, right?”

“I wasn’t Spiderman when I met that person.” Spiderman said softly.

[Softly. Fuck.]

(That ex was a lucky nugget.)

[And a stupid asshole nugget, left someone like Spideybabe.]

“Well, still.” Wade tugged off his gloves one by one. He looked at Spiderman who was watching him, “This isn’t going to turn into a strip tease, don’t worry.”

“Aw. I was about to get my camera.” The hero said with a pout, chuckling after.

“Don’t even dare. I’m the biggest camera shy in the world. Not picture-worthy.” Wade snorted. ”So that person, then.”

“Yeah, well.” Spiderman cleared his throat, “I got a little helpful over this man.”

“Ah.” Wade nodded, “Being helpful is a nature to you, obviously. Was he good lookin’? Has to be, Spidey. ”

Spiderman’s voice got even softer, “Looks don’t matter to me.”

“I hope.” Wade snorted, “So, is he?”

“He was great.” Spiderman looked down at the edge of the building, “Funny, talkative, crazy dirty mind.”

[Crazy resemblance.]

(Yes, I'm gasping so hard right now.)

“Wait, did I lose my memory that I didn’t remember ever dating you?”  
Wade gasped, clutching his chest, “Please tell me right now.”

“Well...” Spiderman drawled out. He glanced towards Wade before laughing, “You’re not that lucky, pal.”

“Aw, darn.” Wade made a sound, “But! That’s alright, Spidey. I am also saving myself for this lovely human being. You should know him, webhead. He’s a photographer and gorgeous; gorgeous back and front and well,” Wade lowered his voice to a whisper, “I stalked him once or twice,” Back to normal volume, “And he even takes pictures of you! You know him? Peter ‘the love of my life’ Parker? That’s his middle name, by the way.”

Spiderman was silent for a few moments. He looked to the city then back towards Wade, “I uh... yeah, I know him. By name, but I haven’t really had an actual conversation with him. Is he as crazy as you?”

“You hurt my feelings!” Wade clutched his heart, “Peter’s crazy, yeah, for me.” Wade smirked and Spiderman’s head rolled to the side. Wade guessed he probably rolled his eyes, too, “My baby boy’s confusing as hell. I don’t know why he liked me. It’s probably my hair and my large physique back then.” Wade gestured to his face, “This is a huge game ruiner. I lost thousand points ‘cause of this.”

“You’re likeable.” Spiderman shrugged, “Mostly why I’m eating pizza with you right now instead of actually looking after the city.” He looked at Wade, “Have you um... has he seen you without the mask?”

“God, no.” Wade made a disgusted face, “I want him to keep his meal on his stomach, thank you very much. Petey’s not gonna like seeing me like this.”

“Being a mercenary, probably.” Spiderman muttered.

“Heeey, I stopped being a merc when he told me to!” Wade defended. He could still hear the angry voices of his clients whenever he turned down a job.

“Well, then I guess he shouldn’t have any problem with you.”

Wade didn’t speak, only did jazz hands over his face.

Spiderman said, “So? If that Peter guy really loves you, he wouldn’t care.”

“Eh, that’s what everyone says.” Wade disregarded his opinion, everyone’s opinion, “And Peter’s happy without me. More peaceful.”

“How’d you know that?”

“I look after him. I know it’s creepy but I’m not doing it in a perverted way!” Wade quickly defended. He and Peter had more sexy times than his fingers and toes could count, but Wade would never do something in that aspect in such a disgusting way, “I just can’t help it. I see him and he’s perfect as ever, wearing that large camera and his glasses.”

Spiderman was silent.

“Sometimes, I regret being Deadpool and sometimes I don’t.” Wade glanced at him and he said in glee, “I can’t really give up this kickass healing factor now, can I? Stupid Francis had to fucking make it worse for me.”

“Francis?” Spiderman perked up, “Who’s that?”

Wade whispered, “It’s a little secret. Let’s just say he was a total asshole and the reason I am what I am right now. And he picks a horrible nickname named after a dish soap, Spidey! A dish soap!” He laughed loudly.

Spiderman was staring at the ground, hands clenched. He was starting to breath heavily. Wade reached over and poked him on the shoulder, “Woah, Spidey! You’re breathing your lungs out!”

“Sorry.” Spiderman said hoarsely, “Wade, I’m sorry.”

Wade shrugged, “For what, webhead?”

“For reacting the way I did.” Spiderman said, shaking his head, “I can’t tell you, not yet, but I swear it’s not.. I don’t mind how you look.”

“Ah, it’s alright, Spidey.” Wade waved a hand, “It happens.”

“No, really.” Spiderman’s tone sounded sad and almost pleading, “I want you to believe that. I don’t care how you look. And people who make you feel like shit are... are...” The hero struggled.

“Spidey.” Wade almost breathed, surprised. He was fucking happy, “You know, you’re actually a sappy shit.”

Spiderman huffed, and then the tension was cleared once again.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked it! Comment what you think. Also, this is the second to the last chapter loves.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Wade..” Peter began, but then Wade was turning around, walking to the door. Peter called out again, “Wade.” He firmly said, “Don’t leave.”
> 
>  
> 
> Wade didn’t even look back as he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER FRIENDS

**Chapter Eleven: Not So Blind Chicks**

  
Peter stayed up all night. He wanted to know what could’ve happened to Wade with that Francis guy he was talking about. Peter wanted to know more about that ‘little secret’. He wanted to know what happened to him and how he became like that. He stared at his empty wall where there used to be loads and loads of things and questions taped to it. He cleaned it all off.

  
He lounged in his livingroom, still fresh from his patrol and had nothing else to do after eating, scrolling through hundreds of pictures stuffed in his memory card. His camera was real dear to him. That camera contained almost all his moments he spent with Wade, be it mornings or afternoons or evenings. His relationship was Wade was important to him.

  
Meanwhile, Spiderman and Deadpool seemed to be having a great time fighting crime. Deadpool’s actually doing good. Well, he’s naturally good with his combat and his weaponry, but now he doesn’t kill. Injured, probably, or a cut in the arm or in the leg, but they all end up hospitalized instead of lying lifeless on the ground.

  
The people were confused and more surprised on their duo. A hero and a mercenary wasn’t a really great mix. Everyone noticed Deadpool’s sudden change of fighting style; no more cut off limbs, beheaded victims, blood severely spurting out. He no longer did that but people were still skeptical in relying on him like they rely on Spiderman. It makes Peter proud, nonetheless. After every crime solved, he would walk over and give Deadpool a little pat in the back and a little compliment. It got Wade grinning every time.

  
“Oh, Spidey!” Peter jumped from the sudden, loud voice coming from his bedroom. His senses didn’t even warm him. Before Wade could peek his head in, Peter hid his camera under the cushions, stuffing it to hide it. It was then when Wade entered, waltzing in with his hips swaying that his holster came with the movement, “Spidey-babe!” He greets, jumping enthusiastically onto the couch beside Peter.

  
“We saw each other yesterday.” Peter said, securing his mask tighter over his head.

  
“But we didn’t go together today.” Wade sighed, “And there’s nothing better to do in the apartment. I don’t want to masturbate either.” He pulled off his mask. Peter was happy and proud every time Wade showed his skin willingly to him. It was a whole new level for them.

  
Peter, already been used to Wade’s random sexual meanings, manages to say with a straight face, “That’s quite new. Your hand got tired of you?”

  
Wade gasped, “No one gets tired of me!”

  
Peter shook his head, smiling as he muttered, “Ain’t that true.”

  
“Hey, hey no muttering where Deadpool can’t hear.” Wade snapped his fingers, “I’m extra bored today, webhead. Any plans except for running after bad guys and getting my head blown off?”

  
“I’m quite hungry.” Peter stood, stretching his arms up with a little grunt. He turned to Wade to see his face angled down, eyes on his butt. Peter put his hands on his hips, “Nice view, I bet?”

  
Wade scoffed, waving his hand in the air and slapped the side of his thigh suddenly, “This one ain’t got no competition.”

  
Peter smirked under his mask before he shook his head at the merc, “Whatever. Go do something useful while not snooping into my room. I’ll try to make something healthy instead of tacos.”

  
“Judgmental!” Wade cried out from the couch as Peter walked to the kitchen. He peered in his fridge. He hadn’t gone to the groceries yet. He was planning to but it never actually came. He was balancing work, Wade and Spiderman in his every day life. It was difficult to tend to his own ‘Peter’ needs.

  
Sighing, Peter shut the fridge closed, beginning to walk out of the kitchen, “It seems like we’re going to have to take...-“ Peter stopped, his voice gradually getting silent as he stepped on the doorway, “...out.”

  
Wade was holding his camera with both hands, his body tensed and still as he stared down at it.

  
Slowly, he stood up and tossed the camera back to the couch where it bounced and fell to the floor. Coincidentally, the words ‘Peter Parker’s Property’ showed itself to the both of them. Wade looked down on the floor, “It’s you, all this time.” His voice was frighteningly low and calm.

  
“Wade..” Peter froze, “I...”

  
“It’s why you freaked out, isn’t it?” Wade finally looked at him, “You found out Deadpool was me but you didn’t tell me Spiderman was you.”

  
Peter weakly said, “I wasn’t ready.”

  
Wade shook his head, “I was so scared to show myself to you and now I have been these past few weeks. Fuck, I’m so stupid!” Wade yelled, gripping his head, fists clenching.

  
Peter slowly raised his hand to his head, and he pulled his mask off his face, revealing his face and messy hair. Wade looked away, clenching his eyes shut. He bent down to grab his mask that had fallen to the floor and Peter gasped, reacting quickly, “No, please!”

  
Wade stopped but then he grabbed it in his hands again, “I never wanted to show you like this.” He then looked up, “You lied to me.”

  
Suddenly, Peter’s anger slowly bubbled up. He frowned, “I lied to you? Wade, do you remember the part where you left me? When you disappeared like someone I never knew? I waited for you. I texted and called and I looked for you. You never answered back. Everyone thought you were dead but I didn’t believe them because I loved you.” _I still do._ It was sitting on his tongue.

  
Wade was silent. He looked like a piece of art just standing there and deserving to be looked at.

  
“Now, I’m sorry.” Peter shrugged, “I’ve hid from you because I wasn’t ready to tell you. I was so angry you left me but now I understand because you told me yourself.”

  
Wade eventually spoke, “You can’t possibly want me especially after seeing this...” Peter does. He’s become a better person and Peter’s proud of him. He’d changed so much.

  
“I do want you.” Peter softly said. He wanted to reach forward and hug him as tight as he could. Wade looked so vulnerable and small for the first time.

  
But Wade slipped on his mask, “You shouldn’t.”

  
“Wade..” Peter began, but then Wade was turning around, walking to the door. Peter called out again, “Wade.” He firmly said, “Don’t leave.”

  
Wade didn’t even look back as he left.

  
//

  
Weeks passed and Wade hadn’t made a single appearance all around New York. He wasn’t in the news, the papers, or in anywhere. It was just like before and Peter was scared. Peter had him once, lost him once, he had him again now he was gone. But Peter wouldn’t lose him. Even during patrol, Peter couldn’t help looking for him instead of his city.

  
Peter remembered, after Wade left that night, Peter slipped on civvies before taking the cab to Aunt May’s house, silently sitting in the backseat as the friendly cab driver tried to make a small talk to his uncooperative passenger. Peter got out after arriving and gave his pay and a small smile to the driver. He walked up to Aunt May’s porch, scrubbing his eyes with his sleeve.

  
Peter knocked, “Aunt May?” He called out. He tried a few times after silence, “Aunt May!”

  
Peter looked around him. The neighborhood was quiet and dark. Peter sniffled and knocked a few times, “Aunt May!” He called again.

  
The light from the inside flicked open, and then several locks, which Peter demanded when he had moved out, were being clicked open before the door was opening. Aunt May was looking tired but worried, “Peter? It’s quite late, darling. Come here.” She ushered him inside, closing the door behind him.

  
“Peter..” Aunt May said, sympathy dripping on her voice as she looked at her nephew. Peter must have looked bad with swollen red eyes, sweaty forehead, wet cheeks and snot all over him. Peter hugged her, sobbing freely into her shoulder. She said nothing. She just hugged him without any hesitation and held him.

  
Peter remembered that night. He realized how he really loved Wade.

  
“Parker!” Peter jumped, the coffee practically doing a flip. He held it more firmly, huffing as his name was called once again. He entered Jameson’s office, placing the coffee on the desk, “Yes, sir?”

  
Peter busied himself with his work a lot. He still hadn’t found a new job, but fortunately he could still pay for his apartment unlike before in his previous apartment complex. He had to move out at one point.

  
He was doing good as Spiderman, too. He kept the city safe and in one piece, and despite Daily Bugle’s trash headlines, the people actually looked up to him and trusted him. As Peter Parker... not so much.

  
//

  
[Oooh, this is great work out. Real work right here.]

  
(Let’s remove your flabby fats. I can practically squeeze a handful and out comes a pig.)

  
Wade ignored his boxes. He wiped off the blood in his gloves with his victim’s clothes and sheathed his katana.

  
[Another job done.]

  
(I wish we can get a shower done, too.)

  
“Yeah. I’m getting a shower soon.” Wade agreed quietly. He exited the building, sneeking out of the police’s noses and into an alley.

  
[Hey, hey, hey, remember when we found Spidey in an alley?]

  
(It was actually Petey! Now I’m glad we saved his cute little butt.)

  
“Shut up.” Wade muttered. He continued walking. It was eerie and quiet in the New York streets. Granted, it was almost 3am. As he reached his apartment, Wade slammed the door shut. He hated this apartment. It was empty and it was small, even for him.

  
Wade dropped his weapons on the livingroom floor. He would sanitize them later, but now he needed to clean himself. Stripping off his suit, he, like a responsible normal adult, dumped it to the laundry before he walked to the shower completely naked.

  
He stepped into the shower, turning the water on hot and staying under the spray, letting the water remove all the dirt and blood on him.

  
[Think we’re gonna dissolve in deep, pure sadness and grief?]

  
(It always ends that way, doesn’t it?)

  
[I wouldn’t say end.]

  
(What if miss writer decides to leave these two somehow unhealthy characters like this forever?)

  
[Then what’s the point of this god-forsaken fanfiction?]

  
Wade tossed and turned around in his bed. He should really get new bedsheets. Or a mattress, or.. perhaps a new bed. But he never had the time, or any energy, to buy a new bed and actually renovate this very room. He wasn’t a fan of moving things around at all.

  
[Uuuugh, God. Sleep, please. Don’t let me suffer! Sleep!]

  
“Can’t sleep.” Wade groaned into his pillow. He turned around once more before he sat up, launching his pillow to the nearest wall. It lands softly on the floor next to the discarded bottle of lube.

  
“Fuck.” Wade’s chest heaved. He tugged his knees to his chest, his arms coming to cover his bald head and clawing at his heavily scarred scalp. It had been a long time since he last saw Peter, or Spiderman fuck that, and he’d been... empty ever since. Much more than he lost Peter. Now he lost both of them, if that even made sense. Peter was Spiderman. Spiderman was Peter. That was hell of a lot to take in.

  
[Stop lollygagging and sleep, goddamnit.]

  
(A new morning is a new start!)

  
[Fuck off.]

  
Wade didn’t end up sleeping; he ended up seeing Death for like the nth time. Pathetic. He didn’t actually do anything other than lounge around, earn unnecessary money, get fat and mourn like a little girl rejected by senpai. There wasn’t anything to do. With Spidey, --

  
[I’m getting sick of that name.]

  
(I know, right? Like Spiderman, Superman, Batman- does that mean Batman come from bats?]

  
(Clueless. Get out.)

  
With Spidey, Wade had always something to do. They were together almost every day; hanging out on roofs, eating, plain talking and even fighting crime. Deadpool fucking fought against crimes and didn’t cause them. Being a mercenary was always a part of being both Wade Wilson and Deadpool but Peter apparently had that secret superpower. Wade was literally a goner for him.

  
[Someone’s in looove.]

  
(Hopelessly, miserably, disgustingly true.)

  
The next morning, Wade was out of town for a job. He was staying in a shitty hotel with the worst creaky beds. The receptionist almost spit his coffee out when he saw Deadpool. Wade just kind of threw his money everywhere before finding himself a random empty room. He spent a few days there, confirming shit before he went down to the action.

  
It was quite a tough job this time. His victim was a high class businessman and not just some criminal who wore black and had an aesthetic for warehouses. The victim and the client who hired Deadpool had some sort of cliché rivalry in their business and apparently the client was pathetically losing so he hired someone else to finish his own problem for him.

  
Wade just wanted to go home, eat, lay on the couch, sleep, watch Golden Girls.

  
It was a clean job. Wade didn’t even have to slit the people’s throat who he passed by to finish the job. He just used some magic with his teleporter to the man’s office and planted a bomb right under his office chair. Wade left through the window as soon as the door opened. The man was gonna be taking care of his sore ass soon.

  
Wade teleported back to his apartment. Well, he planned to, but he landed on the street outside his apartment complex instead. He ignored the eyes of the people, like always, as he ducked into the alley. He sneaked his way into his apartment. The first thing he did was slipped off his boots before he walked barefooted, locking his door. He went to the livingroom, and abruptly stopped.

  
[OMG, I swear we’re meant to be.]

  
(Ayeee, that rhymed.)

  
Peter Parker himself was lying on the couch, face first and dug into Wade’s dirty cushion. Wade cringed. Peter was in his Spiderman suit, his mask rolled to his nose. Wade wondered if he had difficulty breathing those.  
[His face is on your sweat-smelling, probably cum-stained pillow.]

  
(Of course he’d have trouble breathing asswipe.)

  
“The hell are you doing in here...” Wade muttered, sighing heavily. He pulled his mask further down his face before passing by, entering his room. He slammed the door and began to strip. He left everything on the floor except for his gloves and mask. He grabbed some sweats, a shirt and a hoodie and slipped them on. He then walked out. Peter was still sleeping.

  
Wade walked closer. He cleared his throat, raising one foot to poke Peter on his side with his toe, “Hey.”

  
Peter, despite his Spiderman senses, was asleep like a log. Wade poked him again, more firmly but the hero didn’t budge. Wade remembered how easier he woke Peter up before. He must be so tired. Wade kneeled, about to poke and prod at the hero once more when he noticed the bruises on Peter’s jaw and a few by his cheekbones. Wade scowled, disapproving.

  
“Hey.” Wade said.

  
At that, Peter shook awake. He glanced at Wade’s direction before he sprang up, vaulting over the back of the couch and suddenly cried out. Wade quickly went to him, seeing him clutching his leg.

  
Wade snapped, “What the shit did you do this time?”

  
He saw the way Peter’s lips straightened, gulping before he answered, “I uh.. just... it’s swelling.” Wade looked at him. He missed him.

  
The mercenary walked to the kitchen. He didn’t have any ice, but he had a bag of frozen waffles. He put them in a bag and tossed it over to Peter, who caught it gracefully and immediately pressed it to the right side of his ankle.

  
Wade stood there, “Why are you here?”

  
Peter looked up at him, sitting still on the ground, “I was.. hoping I could see you.”

  
“You can’t just break in here.” Wade said, grounded.

  
Peter’s lips were frowned down and Wade wished he could see his eyes, “I used to do that but you never minded.”

  
“That was before you lied to me.” Wade shrugged, “Now you just threw away the privilege of being a friend and owning yourself a Deadpool friendship bracelet or possibly an anklet.”

  
Peter didn’t laugh, “Don’t act as if you’re the only victim here.”

  
[Embarrassingly, he’s correct.]

  
(Well, he’s also wrong because he—)

  
Peter held onto the couch to pull himself up, standing on his good leg, “You’re not the only one who got hurt. You left me without any reason.”

  
“You want a reason?” Wade clenched his fists, “I have a whole fucking list of them. I can write them down in a nice sheet of paper!”

  
“Stop.” Peter pleaded weakly, “You have no idea how much I’ve suffered without you. You were supposed to come to me but you’ve driven yourself away like you couldn’t even trust me.”

  
Wade angrily ripped his mask off, launching it at the floor, “You wouldn’t be proud of showing this shit face to anyone. Anyone would be disgusted by me. What makes you different?”

  
Peter released a shaky breath, “You actually think I’d judge you on how you look? Are you that fucking stupid?”

  
Wade scoffed, “No, I’m being realistic.”

  
“Wade, I love you!” Peter said, more angrily than passionately, “I don’t care about how you look like! I don’t—“

  
“Explains why you ran like everybody else.” Wade muttered.

  
Peter stepped closer, “I ran away because I found out my supposed-to-be dead ex-boyfriend was the same person I was spending most of my time with and the person I can possibly fall for.” He continued, “I didn’t run away because of your scars, fuck, you think of me like a shallow, inconsiderate guy. You were Deadpool and I was falling for you, Wade for the second time without even knowing.”

  
Wade was still stubborn as hell, standing his ground and never falling, “Peter, you don’t even know what you’re getting yourself into. I’m not even the Wade you used to date. I came back to being a murderer so stop thinking that you still want me.”

  
“I wanted you when you were exactly like this.” Peter argued back calmly, “For fuck’s sake, you were in the middle of a job the time I met you!”

  
“Well, the only difference is that now I’m ugly both inside and outside!” Wade said with fake enthusiasm,

  
“Why are you pushing me away?” Peter asked. He reached for his mask and removed it, letting it fall to the ground. Fuck, he still looked fucking beautiful even with the messy bed hair, bruises, dried blood, and wet bloodshot eyes.

  
Wade shrugged, “You don’t deserve this.”

  
“And Spiderman does?” Peter said, “With my mask on, you welcome me every single time ever since we first met but now I’m suddenly Peter Parker and you don’t want me anymore.”

  
“You see,” Wade began, still fake-cheerful, “Spiderman had been my friend and he’s stuck with me mask on or not. Plus I can’t really show my beauty-deprived face to the love of my life.”

  
Peter looked more hurt than ever, “If I wasn’t Spiderman...” he would have never guessed anything that he found out.

  
“Fortunately, and unfortunately, you are.” Wade shook his head. Peter watched as he walked over , bending down to grab his mask off the floor before slipping it over his head, hiding his face and most importantly, his eyes, from Peter, “Leave.”

  
“No, we need to talk about this.” Peter said.

  
“What’s there to talk about?” Wade shrugged, crossing his arms.

  
“Us.” Peter said but there was uncertainty in his voice.

  
Wade tilted his head, “We just did.”

  
“Goddamnit, I just want you!” Peter’s tears started to fall. His eyes were more swollen than the time he found out had cancer and worse than when Wade left him, “You left me and you hurt me so much because you can’t trust me and now you’re back but you’re pushing me away because of the most ridiculous reasons!”

  
Wade angrily walked over, stepping into Peter’s personal space as he glared down at him, “You have no idea how difficult it is to live without this bloody mask on. I hurt you, I know that, but this fucking experiment—“ Wade gestured towards his own body, “—hurts much more than you fucking know. It’s not the laughs, the insults, the mocks. It’s the horrified faces and disgusted looks. I can’t even bring myself to assholes I don’t give a fuck about. Imagine when it came to _you_.”

  
“I wouldn’t push you away.” Peter sniffled. He angrily wiped his tears away, “How dare you? Didn’t I give you enough?—“

  
“Don’t give me that bullshit because we both know you’re always more than I deserved.” Wade gritted his teeth, “You’re perfect and you don’t deserve a crazy lunatic.” Peter was right at his face and Wade wanted nothing more but to grab him and just hug the living hell out of him.

  
“Do you think I give a fuck?!” Peter frustratedly said, throwing his hands in the air and stepping back from Wade, “No, Wade Wilson, I don’t. For fuck’s sake, I didn’t know Deadpool was you before but I already started falling for you despite your many flaws. Deadpool or not, I accept you.”

  
Wade shook his head, “Just please, Peter.” He muttered, looking down, “Leave.”

  
[No no no, stop you dramatic faceballs.]

  
It was a thick silence before he felt someone press against his chest, hands grabbing at his jaw and suddenly there were lips against his. His mask was on the way while Peter’s face was bare and exposed. Wade felt himself moan, desperate of the taste he had taken himself away from in a long fucking time. He pulled back, taking a second to rip his mask off once again before reaching for Peter. Their kiss was full of emotions and passion. It was probably the most clichè romantic kiss ever, with the not-so romantic setting of Wade’s apartment.

  
“Pete...” Wade panted. He grabbed Peter’s thighs, making Peter yelp as he was suddenly hoisted up, his legs automatically wrapping around Wade’s waist. Wade pushed him against a wall, hands on the hero’s arse and gripping at the muscle.

  
“I miss you so much.” Wade breathed heavily, trailing his lips down to the column of Peter’s neck. There, he sucked a deep mark on Peter’s light skin.

  
“Wade, Wade..” Peter said. Wade traced the bruise he made with his tongue before simply nuzzling his face into Peter’s neck. His large, much bulkier arms wrapped themselves around Peter’s waist. The latter’s legs and arms were still around the older man, clinging with his everything.

  
“Don’t let me go again.” Peter practically pleaded. One of his hands was on the back of Wade’s head, holding him close and tracing a few patterns over Wade’s scars. It was a long moment of silence before Wade spoke,  
“Well, to be fair,” He said, “I never really did. I’m like your shadow.”

  
Peter giggled, sniffling, “We’re such idiots.”

  
[Disgusting, have mercy.]

  
(Hey we’re back.)

  
[So are they.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rushed ending???


	12. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade grabs the hand on his arm, “I should really be the one to thank you, baby boy. I felt loved.”
> 
>  
> 
> Peter leans closer and kisses his upper arm, “I’m glad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter my friends. I'm both sad and happy to announce the end of Masked and I am tuly relieved to receive such positive comments and thank you for reading my work ❤

**Epilogue**

  
“My gosh, Pete-y. I ever knew you can be such a perv.” Wade commented from the couch. Peter, who had just come out from the hallway, stopped in his tracks and raised an eyebrow.

  
Wade gestured to his clothing, “That’s my jacket, isn’t it? Explains why I haven’t seen it since I left.”

  
Peter pulled the hoodie closer to him, “It’s mine now. Nothing’s yours.”

  
“What about you?”

  
Peter stuck his tongue out at the larger man. He continued his walk to the couch, plopping himself beside Wade. He bent his knees and hugged them loosely, “Uh, Wade?”

  
“Yes, sugarplum?”

  
Peter didn’t even wince at the nickname.

  
[Jackpot.]

  
(That’s it. He’s our boy forever and ever.)

  
“Aunt May invited me for dinner.”

  
“Oh.” Wade nodded, seeming unfazed by it, “Well, you better go, then. Aunt May never liked you to be—“

  
“I told her about you.”

  
At Peter’s words, Wade froze. He looked at Peter, “What now, Petey?”

  
“Just please understand?” Peter pleaded, “It’s been months, Wade. You know she’d love to see you again.”

  
“Pete, honey, listen.” Wade started with a sigh, “Aunt May’s opinions matter just as much as yours does, sometimes even more than yours—“ Peter rolled his eyes, “—and I think it wouldn’t be a great idea to--...” Wade noticed Peter’s glare. To make sure, he glanced behind him.

  
[Yup, no one’s there.]

  
“Petey-boo?” Wade grinned with guilt.

  
Peter then sighed. His hands found their way to Wade’s rough, scarred ones. He laced their fingers, “I promised her she would be the second person to hug you when I find you, and I did. I want to make that happen.”

  
“But, Pete. It’s only—“

  
“Two months.” Peter supplied, “And I know you want to see her as well.”

  
“I really do.” Wade said with a sad expression. He really does want to see Aunt May, “But remember how scared I was to show you how I really look like?”

  
“And remember when I didn’t care?” Peter smiled at him. He squeezed his boyfriend’s hands, “You’re family to her. She loves you.”

  
Wade closed his eyes and he then he sighed deeply. He does miss Aunt May. He nodded, looking up to Peter, “Yeah, you’re right. Aunt May is the sweetest old thing ever. Besides, she wouldn’t be able to resist me.”

  
Peter laughed, leaning forward to kiss Wade’s cheek, “Exactly.” He pulled away to grab his camera lying on his coffee table, “Smile for me?” He loved capturing pictures of Wade. The first time he did that Wade snuck his camera out and deleted it but of course, Peter didn’t stop.

  
“Oh no.” Wade covered his face, “There’s enough on your gallery. I can hear the sound of your camera screaming for help.”

  
Peter took a picture of him nonetheless, loving his exposed skin. He smiled before he put his camera back, “Okay, it’s gone. But I’ll definitely frame a picture of you. Maybe I’ll have a dozen.”

  
“Yeah, sure.” Wade moved closer to him, nuzzling his face on Peter’s neck, “Turn our apartment into a horror house.”

  
Peter hummed, “Or a museum. That’s more like it.”

  
Wade looked up at him, puckering his lips. Peter leaned down and kissed him softly. Wade made a sound, raising a hand to cup Peter’s jaw. He shifted himself better to be more comfortable, practically putting himself on Peter’s lap. Their lips slid against each other. Soon, Wade licked into Peter’s mouth. Peter parted his lips, touching tongues with Wade and his hands roaming under his shirt and to the scarred skin.

  
“Pete...” Wade breathed, pulling away momentarily. Peter took the chance to slip his shirt off. It made him smile how the larger man didn’t feel shy or try to cover himself up from being exposed anymore. Instead, Wade crawled to sprawl himself on the couch, suggestively spreading his legs.

  
Peter growled and practically tackled him.

  
\--

  
“Black suits you.” Peter smiled widely, looking up at Wade as he fixed his cuff links. They were finally going to visit Aunt May. Peter asked her if he could have dinner there and she happily obliged. At that hour, she was probably already cooking. Bless her heart.

  
“I’m nervous as hell.” Wade huffed. He was standing in front of the mirror. His clothes were fine and already ironed as well as Peter’s. Well, Peter hadn’t dressed yet. He just got out of the shower.

  
From the reflection of the mirror, Wade watched Peter as he dropped the towel, sliding up his underwear quickly as he could. He continued to watch until Peter was fully dressed, in jeans and a blue button up shirt. Peter eventually noticed his gaze, “What?”

  
“I think you just calmed me down.” Wade shrugged but then he looked down on himself, “Or half.”

  
Peter rolled his eyes fondly, “Pervert.” He walked back to the bathroom so he could dry his hair and maybe style it. Wade followed him there after a few minutes. He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

  
“Why, hello.” Peter said without looking at him. Once his hair was dry, he began to style it into a little quiff. He was done in minutes. He faced Wade and beamed at him, “Let’s go?”

  
Wade nodded, “Yeah, of course.”

 

On the way there, Wade was antsy, not even bothering to lean over and whisper about the taxi driver’s horrible goatee. He would, to be honest, but he was only looking out the window, knee bouncing. Peter put a hand on his thigh, “You alright?”

  
Wade looked and nodded, “Yeah of course.” His eyes showed pure worry.

  
“Everything will be fine.” Peter kissed his cheek. Soon, they reached Aunt May’s house. The porch light was already on and Peter couldn’t wait.

“Come on.” He said as he paid the cab driver, holding Wade’s hand.

  
“Okay.” Wade let out a heavy breath, shaking his shoulders, “Let’s go. I miss that old lady.” But Peter had to physically drag him to stand in the front door. Peter knocked a few times. As they waited, he lifted Wade’s hand to his lips to place a kiss on it.

  
The front door opened suddenly, and Aunt May was hugging Peter close, “Darling, hi.”

 

“Uh.. Aunt May.” Peter rubbed her back before he began to pull away, “I’d like you to see someone.”

  
When Aunt May pulled back, her gaze was already trained on Wade. She was intently staring at his eyes and his eyes only before she gave a sob, “Wade, sweetheart?”

  
The large man smiled. It was a bit shy and totally contradicting to his confident personality, “It’s me, Aunt May.”

  
“Oh, sweetie.” Aunt May pulled him in for a hug. Peter’s heart swelled, seeing his two most favorite people in the world meeting again after a long time. That year without Wade was slow and agonizing. Seeing him now, being with him made him complete.

  
For the whole night after dinner, Wade had been himself, telling jokes without limits and groping Peter at times when Aunt May wasn’t looking. It would’ve been great to stay the night, but they weren’t prepared enough to do so. Wade already had a stain on his shirt from the chatters and stories he’d been telling during dinner.

  
It’s late at night when the two men decide to leave. They make sure Aunt May’s good before they leave with extra leftovers. Outside, they begin to walk. It was too late to grab a taxi.

  
Peter was feeling rather giddy about everything. He cracked a smile and siddled beside Wade, grabbing his hand and putting his free hand on Wade’s forearm. Wade raised an eyebrow, although amused, “Why so clingy all of a sudden, Petey? I shouldn’t be asking that because you like to cling on many things.” He proceeds to pretend to shoot webs.

  
Peter smiles, “Thank you for coming.”

  
Wade grabs the hand on his arm, “I should really be the one to thank you, baby boy. I felt loved.”

  
Peter leans closer and kisses his upper arm, “I’m glad.” He smirks, and then he grabs onto Wade's biceo tightly before he stretches his arm up at a certain direction, shooting a web towards a streetlamp and pulling his arm back to launch them. 

 

"Jesus, Pete!" Wads clings to Peter for dear life, "You're really in the mood today."

 

Peter brings them to the nearest rooftop, with Peter landing on the ledge and putting Wade down, who jumps and turns around immediately to wrap his arms around Peter's waist, spinning them around lightly.

 

[There shall be rooftop sex!]

 

"We're not having sex here, if that's what you're thing." Peter giggles, wrapping his arms around Wade's neck.

 

"Aw, darn." Wade huffs.

 

Peter smiles and kisses him, letting his hands caress Wade's beautiful, textured skin, his movements slow and soft but sure. Wade kisses him back, big hands travelling down Peter's bum and gripping him. Their tongues join together, and Peter begins to moan against Wade's lips.

 

Wade smirks, "Changed your mind?"

 

"Peobably." Peter gasps out, pulling back before pushing them both to the ground.

 

[Oh yeah!]

 

(That's the happy ending... I guess. Rooftop sex.)

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to read my other (larry stylinson) works; Fool's Gold, Endure and Survive, and Small Bump.


End file.
